Seasons

To assay the vigor of one.

Farmers plow fields in turn sow seeds

That shall repay their deeds greatly.

Flowers harmonize to Implore,

Hush the sun emits its warmth galore.

With the beginning of summer,

Whist blossoms the Season of growth.

There now lay harps of barren trees,

Ochre and rust in steady breeze.

The farmer’s collect mature crops,

Thou extol the fruits of Anguish.

The world looks like its colored up,

In tones of deep yellow buttercup

With the beginning of autumn,

Sound falls the season of harvest.

The triumphant dark queen shall reign,

Watch mortals with regret unseen.

The earth sits still lifeless as rock.

Aqua lies chill like film of glass.

He shall soon end his ebbing light,

For night shall now rule over daylight.

With the beginning of winter,

Whist slithers the season of death.

Thy soul transgressed per vanity

Thrift and Envy serve aplenty.

Cede ye to a world ethereal

Resign to raven’s cry raucous.

An array of flowers now bloom,                                                                              

Banishing the terrible gloom

With the beginning of term spring,

Cry emerges the term of rebirth.