Her entry seems enchanting every year,
Arrayed in white to please the viewer's eyes,
But blemishes replace her thin veneer,
Revealing days of gray in her disguise.
She wears her stunning gown around the town
And drapes the trees, compelling them to sway.
The leaves that dress the trees in red and brown
Will land on winter's hands, then soar away.
Her flowing hair descends on barren trees,
Whose naked branches start to sag and bow.
But early spring can break her swaddling freeze,
Evicting winter's grip from every bough.
Her downy gown can seem like paradise,
But spring removes her spell of frost and ice.
“My wish is to stay always like this, living quietly in a corner of nature.” ― Claude Monet