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The seasons vary as they come and go,
and each, a lovely lady, loves to dance.
Fair Winter glistens in a gown of snow
she wears whenever she can get the chance.

She often glides through night beneath the glow
of midnight’s moon. Each sequence of her gown
falls beautifully when she is waltzing slow,
and stillness is the sound as she drifts down.

Her sister, Spring, is eager to dance, too,
but takes her time; she needs to feel the sun
upon her rosebud cheeks and feel sweet dew
beneath her feet. She waits till Winter’s done.

Spring dances with  the breeze when she sashays
across a bluer sky with Winter gone.
Her pretty gown is fashioned from sun’s rays
to sparkle with the colors of the dawn.

She sobs sometimes when sunshine goes away,
but it is good! Her tears become rain showers.
With springing steps, she greets the next warm day
and swings her skirt, revealing bright new flowers.

Her sister, Summer, is not far behind.
The blossoms in Spring’s wake last but a while,
for Summer’s hot! With sun, she‘s intertwined,
and different blooms prefer her sultry style!

Too hot for her own good, this lass can be.
She gyrates slowly; if, by chance, she cries,
her tears revive her so that passionately
she pairs with Thunder, flashing stormy eyes!

The beauty known as Autumn waits her turn.
She does the paso doble with finesse,
and often her appearance makes us yearn
for youth because she wears nostalgia’s dress.

She tangos with the wind and leaves. A rush
of ardor overtakes her in her dance.
Some leaves turn crimson, for she makes them blush
while sweeping earth with brilliant elegance.

One day arrives first snowfall, and you’ll glean
the ladies have again begun their round.
A season’s dance is always to be seen
because their ball room is from sky to ground!

An oldie for Brian Strand's All Yours (May 9) Poetry Contest
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