Seasons
Ere the bite of Summer's first chill
tis the prelude to Autumn's breath
come next,depressed, is the Winter wind shrill
on to Spring's resurrection from death
Copyright © Richard Pickett | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment