The Speed Of The Seasons

By well-wisher

Wed, 29 Nov 2017

5 comments

1 likes

White as the flash on window panes
the world's painted with snow;
bare trees are thunderbolts again
but, fast as thunder, go.

And then the Spring begins to blow
a honey bubble sun
that, its sweet warmth and golden glow,
drips down on everyone.

Then Earth, snail racing round the sun
pokes forth antenna shoots
and Earth, its new rebirth begun
bursts with flowers and fruits.

But almost fast as Summer shoots
forth fields of grass and grain;
to, Summers golden storehouse, loot
old Winter comes again.

Permalink Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on Wed, 2017-11-29 20:50

this is beautiful!

Permalink Submitted by well-wisher on Wed, 2017-11-29 22:42

Thank you, insert.

JoHn

Permalink Submitted by skinner_jennifer on Thu, 2017-11-30 12:31

The awareness of how fast the seasons come and go are impressive and executed perfectly in this poem.

Jenny.

Permalink Submitted by TonyC25 on Thu, 2017-11-30 14:39

Brilliant beautiful piece

Permalink Submitted by Philip Sidney on Fri, 2017-12-01 05:26

Another wonderful poem!