Seasons

Spring; a time to sing.

 

The rain anxiously melts.

 

Summer heat; lovely but violent, 

 

brings Autumn's sadness.


Rememberance.

 

As Winter depresses with it's cold.

 

Where couragous sleep.

 

As the season's change,

 

to bring circular rebirth.

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Wink

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a.griffiths57's picture

    The presentation of your

 

 

The presentation of your poem is lovely, I enjoyed the colour spectrum portrayed and the words also.


 

 

http://www.postpoems.org/authours/a.griffiths57

schmuckjones's picture

Thank you for your comment

I grow tired of the cold, I can't wait for spring to get here. 

MargoT's picture

VISUALLY

VISUALLLY GOOD


Visual poet/ Libertine lost in a labyrinth of complexities, methaphors, searching for the essence/ Ink of life/ death to spell my syphilistic words on the page/ screen.       

schmuckjones's picture

Thank you

For taking a moment to look, and to comment.

allets's picture

"...circular rebirth..."

Nice! The decision made on the quality of each season is exquisitely fine. - Lady A


 

 

schmuckjones's picture

Thanks Stella

I wish we could hibernate like bears do.  I would love to Rip Van Winkle thru winter.  Too cold & too quiet.  :)