Four Seasons: Part One

The world is a beauty with four seasons In each lies hidden precious ornaments Carefully designed for various reasons Gifts too priceless to be worn on garments The first, an incandescent mass of pink Ending a drained mother’s months of worry Swath’d and wrapped in clothes of plain or of mink A harbinger of mischief or glory Fate, faith, luck, race, and destiny combined May make it out a saint or a sinner In time it will be plain what we shall find A dud or one born to be a winner Whatever it is, now we celebrate And on to the next to deliberate