Resisting death, November tree,
Blossoming, white flowers are free.
Colours of flowers tell no lies,
Like some one who has loving eyes.
Everyone thinks this is a fiddle,
November flowers upon the middle.
I am wondering what could be wrong,
The middle of the tree is singing the rosy song.     
Opening the eyes makes you realise
The November tree is making a lovely surprise.
Nature is the teacher for best advice.
I went up there to worship that tree.
While the brain is a slave the heart must be free
Flowers are on the heart of the tree, so on mine.
Flowerless the top of the tree, so is mine.
This is not natural on a winter's day,
Rushing into romance long before May.
This tree has flowers in November and spring,
For us after the flowers, the ending will begin.
Life has fruit, if love is giving.
Flowers are for romance but time is lying.
Dreams are for bargains, who is buying?