Season time

Springtime, trysting time
Beauty of blossoms sublime.
Happy bees, birds, butterflies
Air filled with twittering cries.
Summer's aurum heat
Thirst one cannot beat
Golden warmth of sun
Beach is so much fun.
Her mantle she lays down
Looks 'pon green with a frown
Her own palette autumn has
Tinting nature with pizzazz.
Winter puts up a frosty show
A heart of ice, heart of snow
On hushed, lulled landscape
Sparkling icicles drape.
What with global warming
Ozone depletion warning
Let us hope the seasons stay
Making mother earth bright, gay.

46 thoughts on “Season time

  1. Another great poem yassy. I would love to know your thoughts behind setting the poem out in the way you did. My initial thoughts are it slows the poem down and creates space and breath for the reader. Each line could be the start of another poem.

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    1. Thank you , Davy. Yes, I realize what you are saying but the way I start out writing , I begin to feel I should do somethin different. I have written entire poems about only one season , so I thought why not get them together under WP lol ! I felt a sort of affinity with all the seasons as I wrote, it was almost as if I were writin about an individual.
      Your thoughts on this has given a new dimension to the verse. I am so happy with your view of it.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Thank you for this yassy. I like knowing about the thoughts behind the poets and their poetry. I think it is the old detective part of me that never leaves πŸ™‚

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      2. I think I quite imagine you to be the typical Sherlock Holmes gentleman smoking his pipe . Don’t know why but lol that thought crossed my head ! I have my head stuffed with agatha Christie and Arthur Conan Doyle and now we have Detective Doran. Awesome. You have a brilliant analytical mind , shows up in your haiku.

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      3. Lol yassy, you do make me smile. It must have been those years of being a Detective that were getting me ready for Haiku πŸ™‚

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      4. Yes yassy, spent 30 years working as a police officer in London and a good part of that as a Detective. Lots of things in the writing cupboard to come out πŸ™‚

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      5. Now, that is somethin I am lookin forward to , reading about your time in the uniform . See , I feel proud of you , of you being here and writing for us.

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  2. A perfect pitch to bring in the Spring. And like seasons change, illusions may seem strange…my dear Yassy, your words are simply magic to the brain. To hear you orate your magic would be the crescendo to the music you create. I absolutely loved this Seasonal Sentiment, I love your rhyming and poetry loves you!

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Ah! You justified my crime , Sire! Oh! I am forgetting my lines , I think poetry just took the back door πŸ™„πŸ˜³πŸ˜œwhatever blah blah blah

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      2. So many things are blind nowadays lovely that I think Justice is ahead of the game now.😎. And the way you fold the paper it Season time(sees sometime)πŸ˜‰

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  3. And here I type trying to tempt Winter to stay a while – but a Central Florida frosty season is even in its usual throes of thermometer plunging is not struggle through drifts and howls though I have regaled my bare-toed neighbors naughty tales of going out to the parking lot outside the converted barrack apartments to fet bottles of beer and booze and wine serried in circles ’round silently disproving streetlights: a quick brush of tail-end snow from a whiteout blizzard the day before yielded fun and fumes enow then and looks of disbelief from those with me tugging out chill brews from their polyethelyene wrap-around overcoats called coolers. Your song of Spring now and more will win this brief debate with last eve’s first sighting of long-awaited honeybees tickling azaleas, hibiscus, bottlebrush, and oak pollen and more munchable showings that Spring will rule if not tonight then perhaps tomorrow. See what those wonderful lines wrought, your ladyship!

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      1. like never, ever, no, not even everest clang thy booted foot into a well-cemented formerly muddy rut in the path of thy 4 p.m. knockoff work stroll across a gated yard which once contained 20 gopher tortoise burrows and in one day of excavation that was chores enow for any semi-somnambulent alleged human not-very being. I shall attempt further on The Morrow (‘midst thunderstorms and such) to tattle the tale on WP the origins of Santa Claus in Jolly Ol’e and why Sinter Klaus is a Moorish additional overlay on a Teutonic tonic ‘twixt first snowfall and Winter’s bane. Not to mention, of course, the treatise on why this here experiment in self governance is a Republic and NOT a democracy – though too few so-self-named republicrats seem to know or even follow those dictums.

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