Seasons by Virginia Hainsworth

I love the autumn days, when leaves turn gold
and burnished orange, 'ere their beauty wanes.
They float from trees with grace, as days grow cold
and softly land on streets, in parks, on lanes.

I love the smell of smoke and burning fires,
as folk withdraw inside their homes, with dreams
of snowy days to come, in towns and shires,
of cosy winter nights and frozen streams.

And yet I long for spring, when winter's done,
when flowers peep through the earth, the sky to reach.
I also yearn for summer days and sun.
Bare toes emerge to scrunch on sandy beach.

'Tis good to live in lands where seasons change,
where nature shares all treasures from her range.