My Four Seasons Poem by Eli MorenoDrew

Summer is here, and it’s here to stay
Bringing with it it’s heat and humidity
And it’s long, warm, summer days.
The schools are out, the pools are full
and never looking cooler.

It’s baseball season for all the young men.
Training hard, being whipped into shape by the sun and the coach
Taking every chance to gulp down their drinks slowly.
Their parents prepare for their night of unaccomplished dreams
and sit, cheering their lungs out.

Long labors linger as the workers sweat and swear.
Trying to conquer the sun working the early morn.
The sun might submit, but letting the humidity take over
As he sits behind the clouds smirking to himself
and never felt more rested.

BOOM! Roars the thunder in the night
Then the rain slowly begins to start
Like marbles and beads falling on the tile.
The summer storm comes like an angry husband
and leaves as quickly as the family.

The force and power of summer’s strange strength
Has slowly come to an end.
The children squeeze out these final days like lemons
Wiping off their last beads of sweat from their heads,
and never wanted a change more than now.

Fall

It’s here! It’s here!
Fall has wandered to our doorsteps!
I think I’ll wear some jeans today
Maybe even my favorite jacket!
Let’s go out for a walk tonight,
Then come home and cuddle up.
What am I going to be for Halloween?
Where’s Thanksgiving going to be this year?
Open the windows, turn off the air-conditioner.
I’ll make some hot chocolate.
Honey, get the pumpkin pie.
It’s 6 o’clock and dark,
But it doesn’t mean we have to go to bed…

Winter

Slowly but surely winter shows
It’s icy face, reminding us of it’s bitterness.
His long white fingers reach over the town
Leaving the air eerie and condensed.
Hhhhhhaaaaaawwwww… I can see my breath.
I can see everyone else’s as well.
The cars and the buildings and the houses breathe too.
Winter makes them breathe
He makes the accursed people with asthma breathe more.
Winter’s cold.
Winter’s mean,
It’s unfair
I fear it as much as Monsieur Bonaparte.
It lingers
It stays
Like an unwanted guest that makes you feel awkward.
It clouds your judgment with fog
And hurts your feet when you jump
It fights and fights
It leaves it’s mark
And makes you fear next year.

Spring

Our hearts are thawed
And our souls are warmed

What on the schedule?
1. Wind
2. Fair-time
3. Field trips
4. More wind
5. First day of heat
6. School Testing
7. End of school

Okay.
I’m ready.
Let’s start this
Season with a bang
And end it with a sigh.