Is this paradise ?

In the morning light,

imbued with colors’ bright,

were spangled remnants,

an artist’s delight.

Had Heaven descended on earth, or

had little elves visited last night?

Brushes in hand, swishing nymph like,

hues, perhaps from paradise.

Yellow, ochre, crimson red,

As far as the eye could see

they’d swept, in a tawny tide.

Underfoot too were traces as they’d

tiptoed through the darkness,

nimbly moving, arranging

with the tiniest detail in mind.

Is this autumn when, the trees

shed their leaves?

Nature’s every colour, is sheer delight.