You know when Autumn comes a calling,
When dying leaves from trees are falling.
And Winter shows its frozen face,
When snowflakes land in quiet grace.
And Spring returns with clear fresh dew,
Feeding buds and shoots all new.
And Summer burns itself alive,
When bees a bustle around the hive.
And I wish the seasons of my time,
Could be so easy to define.
(9/9/2005, Newcastle, England)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem