Bitter For Sweet

Summer is gone with all its roses,
Its sun and perfumes and sweet flowers,
Its warm air and refreshing showers:
And even Autumn closes.

Yea, Autumn's chilly self is going,
And winter comes which is yet colder;
Each day the hoar-frost waxes bolder,
And the last buds cease blowing.

by Christina Georgina Rossetti

Comments (1)

Short but very nice. I like the way this Poet writes about everything that surrond us: seasons, .animals, love and more...