The Seasons

The poets extol the coming of spring,
When grass turns green and robins sing,
While children prefer some ice and snow,
And many sleds are on the go,
But June is noted for many brides,
Who plan their troth and take their rides
Of marital bliss the date allows,
A goodly time to take their vows,
While Autumn is for artists
Who paint those lovely scenes,
And painting, change the colors
Converting them from greens,
But if we had our choices
To select one with our voices,
I really don't know which to call,
You see, dear friends, I Love Them All.

by Wilfred Whalley

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