"Seasons of the Year"

Spring

The buds awake with gentle cheer,

A whisper soft, "New life is here."

The crocus peeks through melting snow,

And streams once hushed begin to flow.

The skies are brushed in pastel light,

As morning warms from frosty night.

Birdsongs thread the morning air,

With promises of days more fair.

Summer

Golden sun in skies so wide,

With laughter echoing far and wide.

Fields of green and oceans blue,

Hold dreams that childhood always knew.

The days stretch long with time to spare,

Warm winds tangled in sun-kissed hair.

Bees hum near in lazy flight,

And stars stay late to watch the night.

Autumn

Leaves like fire drift to ground,

A final dance, without a sound.

Amber, crimson, gold array,

Paint farewell to summer’s day.

Crisp the air and ripe the field,

Nature's gifts are slow revealed.

The harvest moon begins to rise,

A torch held in October skies.

Winter

A hush descends on frozen land,

With crystal lace at nature’s hand.

The trees stand bare in silent grace,

Snowflakes fall with quiet pace.

Fires burn and stories spin,

Of times and warmth held deep within.

Though cold may bite and branches sigh,

Even winter dreams of sky.

All Year Round

Each season holds its own delight,

Its song, its breath, its shade of light.

Together they compose the rhyme,

That marks the gentle march of time.

From bloom to blaze, from frost to thaw,

Nature writes her perfect law.

A circle, turning without end—

The seasons come, then come again.