The Four Seasons

First comes spring,
In its magical way of showing,
The flowers blooming,
After a dreaded long long,
Day through the swing,
Of the worst after experiencing,
The crossing over the fancing,
With a nice lodging,
And a sweet sipping,
Of the hot coffee stiring,
Gently flows through the throat with gracing,
Of smoothening,
Ones emotion when looking,
Through the days narrowing.

Summer sway,
In its magical way,
It’s just an unexplainable day,
As people lay,
(Snickers)By the beach to be slay,
While the sun is far from bay,
Red flash is what pay,
The foolish people desperately
Pray and pray,
It gradually,
Looses its hotness slowly,
But surely,
And comes again yearly,
It does show its good side surely,
But one must observe more carefully,
For its shows its humility,
Making people wish hopefully,
That summer would return completely,
Or suddenly.

Along came autumn,
Known as fall for dawn,
With a scale of ten,
We shall give it the dean,
May be just a fan,
Times may be harsh and mean,
It is just like a spleen,
In the centre of the bin.

Last comes winter,
The coldest month of the year,
It is neither sweet nor,
Kinder,
Then any of the four,
This makes it tougher,
To stay through for,
The winter’s door,
Never ever,
Pour out nor,
It wept of sympathy for another.