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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Born in Autumn, a buffer season Not Summer with days of sun Fields of green with life abounding And sparkling clear springs. Not Winter with her majestic wonderland Of brisk cold winds which kiss the skin Of gentle snowflakes that fall to earth Of a blanket of snow that sheets the earth A covering that allows all to sleep for its rebirth. Not Spring the beginning of life anew When snowy fields give way to green grass kissed by Morning's dew Of promises of love, the inner mating call Spring a season of life, the most beautiful of all. Born in Autumn Things die, They give way To winds that blow decaying leaves From once beautiful green trees Autumn poor Autumn how it yearns to live A season of brilliant colors Colors that are false for they hide The fact what Autumn colors dies. A season where not sure Too cold to go bare arm Too warm to wear a coat So sweaters were made Not too cold, not too hot are these days. Spring a season of love Summer a season of fun Winter a season of rest But Autumn a season of labor You must reap the harvest You must prepare for Winter. I fell in love with a girl of Spring A joyful, lovely, spirited thing Her eyes were wild Upon her face there was a suspicious smile She was every thing a man could want Carefree, laughter, emotions of Joy O' my heart did she toy Bountiful, free yes was she This little girl of Spring. I am a child of September Born in the month that begat Autumn Withdrawn, quiet, working hard I have a strong desire to change the world Just as Autumn does It breaks down Summer, forces him to yield To give birth to Winter That is what Autumn does And for all it's glory-for all it's change Winter blankets him with her snow So the change of Autumn goes unknown So is the life of me Only changing the scenery temporarily. The other seasons understand They have their place in time They yield their beauty grand But Autumn yearns for it all He wants to fight He waves his colors boastfully He shines with colors bright And Winter, she only laughs And blankets him with her snow. I fight for beliefs I hold dear But yet I yield them to Time. For Time rules all the seasons supreme Time is the Father of all things Time tells us we must only love Those in which seasons we can share Autumn could have Winter which he proceeds But Summer has Spring which he succeeds Autumn to Winter, Summer to Spring That is how Time made it. (continued September's Child Part two)
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