changing times

in time the green wall will turn bare
the branches will turn all light grey
things will not change at the noonday
all stripped of colour in the air
the branches will be thin and spare
we won't be cheered by the high day
and nothing helps to light the way
but now such thinking should be rare
the green i see is rich and thick
the air is full of sweetest sound
and gentle breezes trick the eye
i look out and see stone and brick
rising out of the hard red ground
and winter right now seems a lie