Poem - Sestina - Seasons

Seasons

July already has passed in time,
days flow like a stormy wind.
The sky is showing a different light
and the land is changing colours,
very slow the brown shines through.
Autumn is awaiting its turn.

The leaves, they fall, each in their turn,
they'll disappear in time.
Changed into skeletons one gazes through,
swept in the air by a playful wind.
Yellow-brown pattern in colours,
spreading in late sunset's light.

Then one morning on dawn's light,
the season again takes a turn.
The palette holds grey-brown-white colours,
you've guessed it right, it's Winter time.
Cold it is, with hail and raging wind
and mist, that won't let you through.

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Trees are bald, one can see through
and days are short of light.
Cheeks colouring red by the icy wind,
blowing in your face, when on corners you turn.
The white frozen branches will melt in time
and only the sky is showing warm colours.

Though slowly again there's a new change of colours
and you'll see green leaves come through.
It is just a matter of nature's time
when she makes the days lengthen in light.
Then it will be Spring's turn
to smoothen down the stormy wind.

It blows the land clean, this fickle wind
and nature shows fresh new colours.
They last as long until Summer takes her turn,
with Winter colds we're through.
The sun shines warm in a bright light,
a year has passed in a four seasoned time.

Let that stormy wind pass through,
enjoy the colours in that different light,
each season will take it's turn, in time.

© 2017 Titia Geertman