THE EIGHT SEASONS

When winter chills blast you complain			
Of bitter wind; of beating rain.				
In springtime when you gasp and sneeze			
You blame the grass and budding trees.			
Come summer the sun chars and fries,			
Your skin cracks, feet blister; mud dries.			
And when autumn cools with night frost,			
Trembling leaf, you sigh, listless, lost…			
Instead, I see winter a chance					
To watch raindrops on my roof - dance!			
Spring unfold new butterfly wings;				
Burbling, chirping...life's busy things!			
Summer is time for glistening gold,				
Sand, surf, shells… mermaids to behold!				
And autumn's hues brushed with God's hand;				
Ask pert children, they understand! 				



Frank Corso