Sun...
bakes earth.
Summer rain...
and plants rebirth.
Autumn smells, sweet gain ,
sky bright through morning mist,
jubilation of the dawn.
Dew abounds, flowers all are kissed.
Nears the time Jack Frost will have his fun.
It came about, bleakest winter fell,
hoary world without taste or smell.
Biting cold covers everything,
yields to a happy spring.
Hope abounds anew,
nothing to do,
only smile
the while
through.
Comments
Keith
Loved the brief encounter with the seasons, no wasted words here to pollute the fresh outcome.
Thanks for the change,
Yours Ian..
I take it as part of the challenge
that if working to a specific word or syllable count I try to avoid obvious padding.
thank you friend for your last comment
i never run
but
ONLY GO
All must know
No need
for thanks, I am always truthful in my statements believing that insincere flattery does no one any good. If I cannot find anything worth admiring in a poem I simply refrain from making any comments.