On my palette dark and burnt and brown. Colours that remained After the greens were gone. Soaked up with the heat from every last ray of sun. So to offer hopes of warmth Now the year is done. In snow, sheet and wind, that Winters always bring, when it's all white or grey A brown so joyous is. Tree trunks emerging out from hollows That piled high with snow drifts are Tree trunks, their rich browns, a promise For season's change and greens that follow. When it's summer and Browns forgotten, pinks and yellows lead the way. Then I think back and on what's round the corner In winters it's Browns that make my day.