Ode To the Seasons

The springtime came without a warning sign; at my wintertime home where I chose to resign. The rain fell without regulation. The thunder instilled in me glorious trepidation. But in time the rain wasn’t the same. In nostalgia I remembered the winter’s fame. Then summer came on the heels of spring. And now came a new song to sing. The sun rent the clouds asunder. The rain dried up and in silence went the thunder. In jest I played in the summer heat. Under blue skies I felt complete. But in time the blue skies weren’t the same I longed for spring in the midst of the summer’s flame. Then Autumn came in the summer’s tracks, and refreshed the burning and smoking flax. The monolithic green turned to a colorful miscellany. The photosynthesis machines shut down indefinitely. But in time the colors weren’t the same. And I had wished that the summer were still aflame. Then winter came on the back of fall. And the trees went bare in the wintry squall. The bustling crowds went to sleep, And in loneliness the wind began to weep. And then I remembered this solstice from before, For it was subject to the cosmic revolving door. I realized everything good comes to an end. And then came spring, my old friend.