Spring, stirs her eager young
Giving life, renewed to those
Who stand about and doze
She whispers hope, of things begun
Beneath winter's cold repose.
Summer, smiling golden rays
With ample breasts of rain
Feeds, and soothes the pain
Of changing white to green to gray
While dressing her wards again.
Fall, donning multicolored hues
Weeps, her leaves cascading
As her life is brilliantly fading
She takes with her the morning dew
Leaving frost in the trading.
Winter, wearing crystal shards
Bares her nudity to all
Standing gracefully tall
She lays a white robe upon my yard
While singing her wanton call.
And I.....well, I sit passively by
Watching through shielding glass
Four sisters marching past
Thanking God who dwells on high
For His daughters stark contrasts.
Timothy I. Brumley