Joy Of Seasons Gone Poem by mazHur Butt

Joy Of Seasons Gone



The joy of seasons is no more
Summers, winters, spring and fall
Are all the same like daily chore
Shut behind the aging door


Seasons change so is time
Until both are meaningless
With least rhythm or rumbling rhyme
No song or dirge there to impress


Time may nodoubt be a healer great
But time is also a killer whale
It passes until you heal by fate
Or ripped apart like hammered shale


Gone is the time when seasons felt
Redolence of roses, summers shine
Snowy winters, pale of autumn melt
Nothing there to claim for age as mine.

Joy Of Seasons Gone
Tuesday, January 12, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: seasons
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