In the gentle glow of morning light,
Yellow whispers softly through the trees.
It paints the world in hues so bright,
A symphony that rides the breeze.

Fields of gold stretch far and wide,
Where sunflowers sway and bow.
Their faces turned to the sky,
Embracing the warmth they know.

Yellow leaves in autumn’s grace,
Flutter down to kiss the earth.
A tender dance, a fleeting trace,
Of nature’s endless birth.

In the sunset’s final blaze,
Yellow fades to evening’s call.
Yet in our hearts, it forever stays,
A gentle light, a golden thrall.