THE SEASONS
Spring and summers pass us swiftly by,
Gone are the spring flowers and the cuckoos cry.
April rain showers fall all year round,
Softening the hard baked sun burnt ground.
The petals of the once proud blooming rose,
Lie on the ground in sweet repose.
The multi colored leaves drifting down,
Leaving the trees without their gown.
Now stark ghostly figures are left at last,
Shivering in the north winds howling blast.
Gone are the mellow autumn days
Of fruitfulness and morning haze.
Cold winter looms and with it snow,
Christmas Fir trees and mistletoe.
Roast chestnuts in an open fire,
Excited children in night attire.
Waiting for Santa and his sleigh,
Bringing sweets and toys on Christmas day.
On the 1st January a New Year is born,
The seasons start again with the break of dawn.
Imran Nazeer
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