(Spring)
Bustling bodies, buzzing bees,
Flittering, chattering around in trees.
A good wind, clear skies,
Pleasant weather, no surprise.
Flowers in bloom, life is good,
Merry memory in the wood.
(Summer)
Scorching prickly heat arrives,
Rendering the earth cracked and dry,
Sweating, frying, no tears to cry
As heat waves waver.
The sun does a favour,
By quickly passing by.
(Autumn)
The leaves turn pale,
Dress up in orange hue.
Ripe and desiccated,
Bathed in morning dew.
Many stories the breeze could tell
Though it does away with just a few.
(Winter)
Cold settles in, unsure
Whether start or end of strife
White flakes here and there,
There's not a single sign of life.
No tasks remain here, save,
Submission to the grave.