Squirrels

In a plane tree tall and grand,

Where nature's brush had firm command,

Squirrels danced amidst the leaves,

Their playful spirits, like autumn's eves.

A canvas of branches, gnarled and old,

Bathed in hues of green and gold,

As sunlight wove its gentle touch,

A masterpiece of colors, oh so much.

Amidst the canopy's glorious spread,

Squirrels scurried, their tails widespread,

Their furry bodies nimble and fleet,

A dance of joy, both wild and sweet.

With brushstrokes swift, they took to flight,

Leaping from bough to bough, their delight,

Graceful acrobats in mid-air,

Painting the scene with flair and care.

Their tiny paws held magic within,

As they sketched stories with every spin,

Their playful antics, a lively show,

Their artistry, a vibrant glow.

Through dappled light, they swiftly raced,

Leaving traces of squirrelly grace,

A tapestry of boundless glee,

Woven in branches of this painted tree.

With every leap, a stroke of cheer,

Their playful spirits crystal clear,

In this masterpiece of nature's grace,

Squirrels danced with such enchanting pace.

So, if you chance upon this plane tree's sight,

Look closely, beyond the day's mundane light,

Witness the squirrels in their joyous flight,

And let their artistry paint your heart bright.