The once-prosperous young saplings bow their heads in wistful acceptance,
Shrivelled with cold, aging with old, and harbouring a solemn reflectance.
Golden leaves flutter from their branched homes, quivering in the autumn breeze,
Underfoot they are crushed, and away they are brushed, in the relentless days like these.
Winter tosses me icy compliments, to gnaw at my aching skull,
As tiny robins peck, at what they can get, feasting until they’re full.
A flickering string of Christmas lights, wink out amongst the frosty dew,
As the dark nights draw in, festivities begin, and silver snowflakes make their debut.
A new year heralds a sombre farewell, to crystal snow that degrades to sludge,
January turns out dreary, February eerie, yet who are we to judge?
But as always, Spring offers her smiling blossoms from somewhere sweet,
Daisies weaved through her hair, in fields we share, like nature’s constant heartbeat.
Summer passes me lollipops to rot my oh-so sweetened tooth,
While spring flowers die, and June passes by, never telling us the truth.
A silky sunrise strikes, and a bubbling brook giggles from next door,
As honey bees buzz, and bumble past us, working by some unspoken law.
So here we are again: October, frozen fingers clasping steaming hot mugs,
Longing for cosy nights, soft hazy lights, and comforting family hugs.
Though each year presents new struggles, that simply cannot be explained,
There’s always a reason, throughout every season, a magic that must be sustained.
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