Springs True Guise Poem by Luke Butler

Many call you the greatest of seasons, a bringer of life and joy,
Many are fooled, and Fall for this ploy,
Keats and I, we know your guise, veiling yourself in life,
Spring you bring no good, but much strife,

Spring you are as a friend, recovering from near death,
Paralyzed and weakened he asks to meet his end,
"do not go gentle into that good night" he repeats to himself,
But he is stored away, like a much to old delph,

Spring your beauty alludes me, I do not know what people see,
Do people like the green grass, or the green leaves on the tree,
I much prefer falls assortment of colour, or winters white and blue,
Spring you promise life, water looking cool, and yet with weather freezing do you think us a fool?
You are a season of betrayal, inviting us to go outdoors, before becoming cool,

Some say the sounds of spring are great, the birds tweet, the trees rustle,
Really the sounds of spring are rushed, a never ending bustle,
The birds rebuilding, trees too,
Spring I don't see how people can love you,

Many call you a great season, a bringer of life and joy
Many I hope, now realize your ploy,
Spring you are a beautiful sight,
Spring your true beauty, however, should give a big fright,