The Changing Seasons

ANTHONY SHACKNOFSKY

Enchanting is the joy of spring
when budding blossoms dress the boughs,
wherein the bustling songbirds sing,
bewitched by spells the sun endows.

And how serene the summer breeze
that fills the air with sweet perfume,
and whispers to the willow trees
the song of life and love in bloom.

Then mournfully the swallows swirl
amidst the sullen autumn sky,
and crackling leaves fast twitch and twirl
in seething winds that scurry by.

But bitter is the winter’s night
with frozen field and icy squall,
when nature in her wild delight
bids soft white flakes to briskly fall.

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