Nature Poem by Isabella Emily
Nature
This season springs not once a year
But thricea tertile; twice a fortnight
To beautify the epoch with all its charms
She is there with lending arms.
The spell is short and gets faded away
Pleasures are transient and so its effects
She is enrobed with a blanket of mist
Once the season bids adieu.
Thursday, January 31, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: nature
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6/16/2024 6:50:18 AM # 1.0.0.1119
