a poet

I wanted to change the seasons
so I became a poet
if for no other reason
it began to rain
in the middle of the sun
the change of season has begun
and no sooner had the leaves
changed colour and fallen off the trees
when I found myself
standing in the snow on the beach
the year like me gets older
winter gathers on my head and face
and as I look over my shoulder
the summer sun slowly fades away
on another hot summer day
the seasons change so quickly
its hard to remember which it is
so many seasons gone by
some sealed with a kiss
and some gave us reason to cry
seems that's all we have though
the pastel, freshness and new beginnings of spring
flamboyant, bright, hot, bold days of summer
the earthy, cool, serene, crispness of autumn
extreme, icy, cold, our deep sleeps of winter
take your pick and call it your own
the seasons are yours to enjoy
as the reasons are yours to employ