山楂 (Hawthorn)
In the orchard of autumnal hues,
Amidst the winds and morning dews,
Stands the hawthorn in full array,
Bearing fruits of scarlet and golden display.
Oh, hawthorn, with thorns so sharp,
Yet adorned with berries in a neat harp,
Your branches sway in the gentle breeze,
As if whispering ancient melodies.
As the sun sets upon the distant hill,
The hawthorn stands tranquil and still,
A symbol of endurance and grace,
In nature's everchanging embrace.
With every bite of your tangy delight,
Memories of childhood take flight,
For in every hawthorn's crimson gleam,
Lies the sweetness of a forgotten dream.
So, here's to the hawthorn, noble and bright,
A guardian of autumn, a glorious sight,
May your essence forever entwine,
With the bounties of nature, divine.
By (Your Name)
