Seasons in Rhyme

Autumn and spring are my favorite seasons
Oddly enough, for opposite reasons

When the lime green buds are being born
And the sun shines bright in the April morn

Invigorated I feel so alive
As first honey bees that fly from the hive

In search of sweet nectar in the early hour
When the morning glory begins to flower

For by that time Spring is well on her way
And the grasses are covered in colors of May

White clouds drifting through amethyst skies
To the flutter and flitting of gold butterflies

By the time new hatchlings are learning to sing
Summer will shade them in delicate green

With all Summer's passions of sweltering spent
And young children asking where they all went

The earth will still warm her feet by the embers
Till raisins from grapes remain of September

Then come the pumpkins from fields of October
The last days of summer are finally over

The maple is bursting; consumed, all aflame
Thirsting for something that hasn't a name

In bright red and gold, trees color their glory
What these leaves have said, told in their story

We once were young and we clung to the trees
We were green and alive and sang in the breeze

Now we let go with what's left on the vine
But even in death we will gloriously shine

We will burn in our splendor; majestic and bright
Joyful, our ending, for soon comes the night

I feel my own spirit accused here of treason;
That I have refused my autumn in season

Yet before winter comes my leaves seem to know
And in all of my limbs I feel my heart glow

There is a time to be born and a time to go;
An early spring morn and frost in the meadow

Yes, Autumn and Spring are my favorite times
When seasons in passing find reasons in rhyme