The seasons
A cool wind blew – she shivered
The day was turning cold
The Summertime was dying
The year was growing old
It happened each September
And took her by surprise
And by the end of Autumn
Sparks would fill the skies
Then Christmastime and hoped-for-snow
Warm fires and gifts and cheer,
Followed by ice or, worse still, slush
To start the brand new year
Then Spring crept in with snowdrops first
And daffodils all gold
Bluebells followed, filling woods
So vibrant and so bold
Until one day a warm breeze blew
And kissed her like a song
Summer greeted Spring and said
“I’ve been away too long”
Every year it happened
Just as the world was ready
When May flowers blossomed thick and white
With perfume sweet and heady
Each season kept its promise
Just as Nature planned
There’s nowhere in the world compares
With England’s verdant land
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