Come the Seasons

Come one, come all,
Come the seasons to gather.
With your simplest touch,
Touch the horizon skies,
The faithful eyes.

Come to me in my times of greed,
In my times of misery and joy;
Come selfishly to sooth my soul.
Come one, come all,
At once and in unison begin to fall.

Speaking of Fall
Or should I call you Autumn?
Bear me your leaves of red.
Bear to me the leaves of yellow
And orange, and colors mellow.
For Fall your touch is gentle
To the earth below;
Your leaves drown the vastness
And your winds smell of roses,
Of lilacs for the muddled noses.
Grace me, grace all with your joy,
Your jubilant form.
Your dance of slow tempest twirls
Captivates the ochre’s tint.
Earthy and rigid and heavenly mint.
Yes, Autumn, your presence stunning,
Is more than most can bare.
Even the owls in willows and pine
Are caressed in your warm clothes;
You are a beauty that nobody knows. 

Come one, come all,
Come the seasons to pool.
I evoke to be swallowed by you.
You have come here to gather
And for Winter I have feelings, rather. 

Ah, lovely and frosty white,
How may you quiet my lips?
With the snow that falls from blues
Down to the earth, the trees below,
Do you realize that all becomes aglow?
Yes, your vicious storms soothe,
Your wild winds, wicked, I worship.
You flowed in with your icy touch
To touch my cheeks, redden and burn
The blood flowing which I yearn.
You come a child, quietly, and scream
With the innocence of white.
You are pure, pristine and polished.
Know that your voice combats a fire
Which keeps me alive in weird desires.
Oh, to smell your waters and taste,
Oh to taste! the rivers of chills.
I hear your whimpers echoing around.
I am enslaved by the best of magic
That only winter produces. Tragic.

Come one, come all,
Come the remaining two seasons,
The seasons of green.
Next to the stage is the sweet,
The sound of hearing birds tweet. 

I speak only of Spring.
Yes, the wet and emerging
By the buds and butterflies.
The sound of fresh rain,
And the seeds of subtle grain.
Now you have come but alas,
My love extends to your sisters.
For they have a song sweet
Yet yours is sweeter I fear.
Your bewitching siren! Melodies I hear!
The bees, the blooming petals,
The trotting of rabbits and doe;
What more do you shower me with?
I smell the perfume of fruit
And I concur that it, for me, suits.
For unto this world you gave life,
And your bubbly colors entice
But you have yet to grow.
Time passes you by, your actions slow.

Ah, have I cycled to the last?
Have the seasons come and gone?
Only one remains, you, oh Summer.
What gifts do you come bearing?
What garments do you come wearing?

You are much like Spring,
For she was naive and soft.
No, you are hot-headed.
I feel your passion boiling in my head,
For you are contagious I have read.
You came to set fire to the green
And to strengthen the weak.
You smelled serene of salty air
And your taste refined
Much like a Bourbon or wine.
I heard your waves crashing,
And touched your thorny palms,
And saw your shining brightness.
Now am I dancing with you?
How do you do moving as you do?
Yet, I find, you bewitch me
Just as Spring once did.
You are not so different after all.
Summer, your leaves crackle dry
And you suck life from things, why?

Now I have danced these dances
And smelled the world.
I’ve been around the river bend.
For the sisters came here to pool
Yet I am the lowly, poorly, fool. 

How I thought I could drink their wine
And not become intoxicated.
Did I think I could contain these sirens?
How my greed is my downfall,
And at once, I’ve lost it all. 


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