Season
In the spring I was born,
And I can remember all too well,
The breeze which caressed my face,
The way my heart would always swell,
When the birds soared overhead,
As I frolicked by the stream,
When my world was carefree,
A child, and everything was a dream.
In the summer I was a man,
When everything was in it’s prime,
Waiting to be admired,
Yet no one had the time,
So much to be seen,
The flowers in full bloom,
The rolling fields of green,
Everything passes too soon.
In Autumn I reflected,
As golden leaves tumbled overhead,
I finally saw the beauty,
In the things that were dying or dead,
But would so very soon return,
Perhaps more beautiful than before,
So glorious in the trees of summer,
Now even more beautiful upon Autumns floor.
In winter I was so tired,
I finally laid down to rest,
I closed my eyes to the world,
And that was when I saw it best,
The memories that warmed my soul,
Rays of sun in winters icy embrace,
Left me with a slumber so sweet,
And a smile upon my face.
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