The Seasons

Autumn comes when the wind blows hard,

Rustling, roaring through the trees.

Autumn comes when the broad leaves fall,

Gently, swiftly to the ground.


Winter comes when the snow falls thick,

Swishing softly through the air.

Winter comes when the cold air stings,

Turning your cheeks to a rosy red.


Spring comes when the snow all melts,

Truckling, rushing down the hillside.

Spring comes when the buds peek up,

Pushing softly to the light. 


Summer comes when June’s hot days,

Scorch and burn like a son of Hades.

Summer comes when laughs and games,

Banish for’er those thoughts of woe.


Autumn returns at Summer’s end,

Halting carefree days of sunshine.

Days of sorrow! Days of joy!

The seasons bring their own.



4 thoughts on “The Seasons

  1. i think, I tell you once more, that you write wonderfully. I would put together your poems in paper, in order to make a small or big book in a near future.


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