Maryida Horn

(Chicago, Illinois, USA)

Seasons - Poem by Maryida Horn

Be ye thankful for the seasons;
For each season there is a reason.
It is cold to kill ye germs;
When it's hot germs squirm.
Some are thankful for the cool;
Those who aren't must be fools.
I'd like to appreciate all seasons;
But scorching hot is out of reason.


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Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 2, 2003



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