Crisp autumn leaves
Cut through the winter sun,
The mist glitters through the sieve
As though shot by a powder gun.
Bare trees shudder in the cold
Withered petals and leaves gather
This is not for long, be bold
They said, braving the weather.
Hail! Mighty gods, At last
The ray of spring bestows mercy,
Gay leaves fluttered madly
While the cold bade goodbye sadly.
Blossoms of pink, yellow and purple
Do justice to colours,
Little children gaily hurtle
While the pleasant air encircles.
Come what May,
The burning season of the year,
Sensational heat of the rays
Makes them yearn for tears.
On goes the wind,
Mercy playing a little hard on them
Well it has it’s own reasons,
Be Thankful, we have four Seasons.