Sonnet of the Seasons

Fri, 10/04/2013 - 09:00 -- iam2018

The chill of autumn swiftly in the air

Its suffocation makes the summer die

And winter’s cold is much for me to bear;

I do not want to wait until July.

For leaves that once were lively choose to fall

Then rot on top the soggy, snowy ground

Until the spring when nature makes its call

So seasons once more make their trip around.

Skin is filled with goosebumps, they arise

When wisps of wind blow through October night

The start of it, a burden in disguise

As by the end, you’re left with thrill and fright

To be or not to be in this poor weather

That is the question; Me, I wish to go

I yearn to leave the coldness altogether

And savor summer’s splendor nice and slow.

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