A Chat Amongst Seasons

Three months have passed since she woke,

So it was to Spring she first spoke.

They talked of Autumn and Winter,

As neither had met the other.

She told of cool Autumn’s richly painted wonders,

And was made aware of Winter’s icy white fingers.

Winter had frowned upon Spring’s rebirth,

Whilst Autumn had extolled Summer’s worth.

Chilled now, she chatted to Autumn afore she retired,

She spoke of Spring’s creation, a wondrous thing to be admired.

Winter awoke!  Donning a frosty white cloak,

Autumn apprised him of Summer’s fiery heat,

But he dismissed it as a squanderer’s feat.

Winter thought Autumn far too flamboyant,

So Autumn and Winter hardly conversed.

And Autumn, well, he viewed Winter as a tyrant,

Calling him stark white, bare and cursed.

Written by Kris Prevel

October 2013

The four seasons, eh!

What would life be like without them?