With words, is a picture painted
And bright colours entrap the eye.
With words, is the monster revealed;
Or makes darkness a beast that creeps.
With words, mirthful laughter is heard
And joy is brought to hearts in need.
With words, are painful tears brought forth,
Or sad tidings leave our hearts torn.
With words, strength is lent to our friends
And so onwards they march through life.
With words unkind we harm our foes,
Or we cast-down cruelly their works.
With words, truth brings light to our feet,
And the true path is clear to see.
With words untrue tracks are hidden,
Or else falsehood leads to blindness.
Dancing leaves in the twilight cool -
Orange and brown from weary trees.
Lively the seem, though husks they be;
They leave the spring for those to come.
Jealous he is (not of their strength),
But for the new journey they make.
Merry it was, dancing the days,
But all good things come to an end.
Autumn is past, he longs for sleep;
So now, weary of dancing - leaves