Comes Spring,
With all the exuberance of Youth,
Energetically bursting forth
With reckless abandon,
Wrapping himself
in a cloak of green,

Comes Summer,
All high minded and arrogant,
Beguiling all with the warmth
of his smile he kicks back
and drinks a cold one,

Comes Autumn,
Comfortable and replete
With the bounty of the year,
Warm and jolly and dressed
In regal Golds and Crimsons,
He hides a dark secret,

Comes Winter,
With his heart of ice,
On creaking joints
He stumbles toward
the inevitable ruin
of his demise.


Martin G. King © 2014
Image sourced on Google Images (all rights remain with the creator)