Seasons

O wondrous fall of saffron gowns
And crimson shades without compare,
You've dressed the leaves in reddish browns,
The tears you'll shed at winter's glare.

Your works of art will turn to blight
When you depart at her command.
Her wintry gown of downy white
Will shroud the trees across the land.

But after that, she'll have to cede
When flowers rise on warmer days,
Since winter's dress cannot impede
The seeds that raise their arms in praise.

Beyond the days of early spring,
When blossoms grace the verdant land,
The days of summer wait to bring
A dress of jade and ocean sand.