seasons

three girls, one boy, we agree?

Winter does not ask if he may take the

Leaves away, nor if he may steal the breeze

How impolite! How simply rude is he

Encasing worlds in such a cruel freeze

Winter digs those flowers’ graves and tucks these

All away. Icy trees and ghosts of leaves

Haunt me day to day; oh, when will it end?

It ends with Spring, the kind gravedigger, joy!

Her face is sublime! Her smile, sweet bend!

Bright April days, yes, flowers she’ll employ

Lovely Spring’s dress is pink, her shoes, bright green

Soft hair, long legs, so darling to be seen.

She lengthens the days, she brings back the bees.

Replenishing rain our Spring gives the ground.

Make way for Summer and her dirty knees!

She’s spreading joy, sunshine and love all ‘round.

Dear, sweet, Summer! Take me ‘way! She’s my Muse:

With her clear voice she banishes my blues.

Ocean waves! Blissful days! Our hearts do rest.

Her bright blue gazes catches me in a snare.

Any who look upon Summer are blest.

She brings hot storms and lightning everywhere.

Yellow’s her color, corn and sunflowers,

Gardens the product of those Apr’l showers.

Oh, but alas, as Isaiah has said:

“The flowers shall fade” as good Autumn falls.

Dry grass and pumpkin vines she makes her bed

Life she gilds with gold, even the crow’s calls.

The days start to shorten– her time flies by

Yet my best mem’ries lie ‘neath Autumn’s sky.