I like Spring,
When the flowers bloom and the birds sing.
When the brutal lashes of icy breeze are long gone,
and the burning sun rays are still unborn.
When all living things come alive,
and dance under clear blue skies.
Temperate, moderate and just right; but,
there's something about Autumn.

With Summer comes all the joy.
Joys of long sunny days and warm evenings.
Ripening and reaping, and young brides dreaming.
Trips to the seaside, camp fires late at night.
Fireflies and stars synchronize,
to paint a breath taking sight.
Warm and cosy, lively and bright; but,
there's something about Autumn.

With Winter comes the hope of peace,
wrapped up in layers of pure white snow.
Celebration of the birth of a baby boy,
who came to save us once long long ago.
The smell of pine, turkey and wine,
carols and laughter as the Northern Star shines.
Lush and tranquil, with a touch of divine; but,
there's something about Autumn.

Struggling to be heard, struggling to be seen,
as something other than an evil foreseen.
When even Gold loses it's value,
over the demanding cries for Green.
Caught in a war between Appolo and Boreas,
when the battle, is to survive, to simply last;
Failing with fury tearing all the leaves apart,
ending the warmth, leading to a frosty start.

Yearning affection, veiling pain and remaining solemn,
there's something about Autumn.