Spring is a skipping pretty girl
…With flowers in her hair,
Remaking all the meadows’ moods;
…By May, she’s twice as fair.
Close on her heels, kin – Summer – comes,
…A lad who likes to race.
He’s bursting with great energy,
…And fierce and flushed his face.
Fall is a lady, elegant –
…Dressed in her finery.
She is a bit aloof: just take
…Or leave her to her spree.
But Winter is a grumpy man;
…And old and gruff he seems.
Both biting bitterness and gloom
…Can be his aged extremes.
As each one comes, treat each one well
…And pay their tip or fee.
Not only will you live in them,
…But each one could you be.
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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.
The Bard on the Hill 