She leant against an archway where roses grew
with delicate hands and rosebud lips to make a young man blush.
Such is the Spring with its exhilarating essences of budding flowers,
trickling streams, new grass and birdsong to make the air zing.
Summer came and she toiled in the garden, digging, weeding,
trimming up hedgerows and her skin glowed radiantly.
Her young man visited everyday and was even more love struck.
Summer is a time of warmth, fulfilment and happy pleasures.
Autumn crept upon them and before they had a chance to see
love, so hot and lustful mellowed and as it died so did the leaves.
The leaves turned red and golden brown and then came winter’s frosty crown.
Winter frosts and winter snow, winter chills makes fingers glow.
The shortest days, the longest nights suddenly lit with Christmas lights.
Does a lover remember a lustful night or the touch of her hand in the morning light?
Ruth Walters
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-seasons-23/
