Our Seasons...

A collarborative attempt at portraying our favourite or not so favourite seasons...poetry and literary pieces, it's all good!


As swirling pools,

of crystal water,

follow aimless,

on stones of old.

As sunbeaten brow,

heave stacks and stooks,

across green,

and brown dry earth.

As fat bees hop,

supping sweet nectar,

and tiny boatmen watch,

ripples on the surface.

The day slips by,

uselessly hot,

drunken in light.

Lazily Forward.

The End

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