Four Seasons

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
About the four seasons

Submitted: February 07, 2007

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Submitted: February 07, 2007

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Spring


Snow caps the peaks, but it’s green down below,


Trees turn color. As buds start to show.


The sound of birds, start the day,


Spring is here, they want to play.


A momma bear roars as her hunger’s displayed


A watchful eye kept, where her young has laid.


A wary doe feeds, in the valley green.


Her “splotches of white”, have eyes wide keened.


A mighty cat screams. In fear for her young.


Two kits just born. Their lives just begun.


A mountainous wonderland, the mixes of green.


As Nature spreads her arms, and welcomes spring.



Summer



Only the high, captures the snow.


The sun heats up, the valley below.


The sound of the birds, still start the day.


But only early morn, is when they play.


Momma bear searches for berries and grubs.


Her young tax her nerves, there’s so much they love.


The wary deer lays, in the shade of a tree.


Nearby the “splotches” play, There’s so much to see.


The momma cat rests, with her two in tow.


Inquisitive kits. There’s so much to know.


Lazy days of summer, In a mountainous wonderland.


Flowers mix with green, as Nature lays her hand.



Fall


The turning of leaves, to browns, gold and reds.


As chilled winds blast, the Nature’s bed.


Just a few birds. Welcome the day.


Toward the south, most have made their way.


The  bears have stored, most they have ate.


It won’t be long, before they hibernate.


The splotches are gone, A young buck clowns.


But his mother’s still there, just in the brown.


In the rocks, A kit skeleton lays.


A cold hard fact, but still Nature’s way.


Fall is here, In this mountainous wonderland.


The greens fade to brown, As Nature rests her hand.


Winter


The cold wind heralds, the winter’s day dawns


The white snow covers, the mountain’s lawns.


The bears are snuggled, All fast asleep.


They trust Mother Nature, their souls to keep.


The “splotches now grown, into a beautiful buck.


His future’s now laid, in the hands of luck.


A mighty puma hunts, for he has grown.


His lean stomach growls, from the hunger known.


The fish are deep, under a frozen pond.


All wait for spring, that won’t be long.


Winter has fallen, on this mountainous wonderland.


Mother Nature’s real, and isn’t that grand??


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