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Irresistible

Seasons come, seasons go
But each season leaves a distinction
For which it is remembered

So once a season came
With a green environment
Rosy plants all around
And I enjoyed the period
Went to the orchard
And picked a flower
That I stayed with long after the season had vanished

But this same flower I had picked
Went with the season
I did not know I could not stay with it
Without its season

Despite all that
There is a wonderful flower I have seen
Which does not vary with seasons

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poem by Brian Bwesigye
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Winds Of Seasons With Hands Of Hope

i hear the wind
by the wind sound
talking to the waves
with a wind sound
mounted upon the leaves
on the ground
to wind through
and around the leaves proudly
as it runs through me so loudly
and mannered towards me so gladly
to sing a song
by the winds of seasons
as they change in seasons
and cheer in different joy

i feel the wind under me
i can see the sun shine over me
i can walk along the path to sober me
and sleep around the hands on me
to hold me with hands of hope

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poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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In New England When Change Is Guaranteed

Seasons change,
As the rain and cool breezes...
Introduces the shift.
And so noticeable in New England,
Is the quickness done by this.

When a new season approaches,
A cleansing of rain from cloudy skies begins.
And distinctive are the seasons...
Showing characteristics different between them.
After each season has settled in.

There is no mistaking Winter for Spring.
Or Summer for Autumn.
Not in New England when change is guaranteed.
Especially when the leaves turn to brilliant colors,
In the Fall.

Seasons change,
As the rain and cool breezes...

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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On Journeys Through The States

ON journeys through the States we start,
(Ay, through the world--urged by these songs,
Sailing henceforth to every land--to every sea;)
We, willing learners of all, teachers of all, and lovers of all.

We have watch'd the seasons dispensing themselves, and passing on,
We have said, Why should not a man or woman do as much as the
seasons, and effuse as much?

We dwell a while in every city and town;
We pass through Kanada, the north-east, the vast valley of the
Mississippi, and the Southern States;
We confer on equal terms with each of The States,
We make trial of ourselves, and invite men and women to hear; 10
We say to ourselves, Remember, fear not, be candid, promulge the body
and the Soul;
Dwell a while and pass on--Be copious, temperate, chaste, magnetic,
And what you effuse may then return as the seasons return,
And may be just as much as the seasons.

poem by Walt Whitman
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Awaiting June~~~

The mourning doves run rife through the Mimosa
While a deluge of California sun beats down
Everywhere is getting acquainted with somewhere
While the bougainvillea leave their fingerprints all around;
Messengers are still a little invisible-
As many a blind eye might attest--
Windows of Springtime sunsets prevail
Surviving the mountains out west;
The in between of the seasons is nearing...
Awaiting in the trails- is the sizzling of June-
Bathing itself in warmth, a bit early, is May
Impatient for that perfect Summer Moon;
So here's to the Seasons of flowers and the shore
The woodlands and mountains so high
Spectators to the greenhouses of seasons & mighty sea
Welcoming all with a most longing sigh;
Two seasons dancing together...
Near to the riverbanks are the Pheasant and Quail
Past experience has truly taught us
That Sun and Blue Sky oft' times prevail;

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poem by Theodora Onken
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Changing Of The Seasons

Oh the changing of the seasons it's a pretty thing to see
And though I find this balmy weather pleasin'
There's the wind come from tomorrow and I hear it callin' me
And I'm bound for the changing of the seasons
Oh it's blowin' in Chicago and it's snowin' up in Maine
And the Islands to the south are warm and sunny
And I've got to feel the earth shake and I gotta feel the rain
And I've got to know a taste of more than honey

So don't ask me where I'm goin' or how long I'm gonna be away
Don't make me give you all the hollow reasons
I'll think of you like summer and I might be back some day
When my heart miss the changing of the seasons
Oh it's blowin' in Chicago...
[ guitar ]
Oh it's nothing that you said and it ain't nothing that you done
And I wish I could explain you why I'm leavin'
But there's some men need the winter and there's some men need the sun
And there's some men need the changing of the seasons
Yeah it's blowin' in Chicago...

poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Appreciate Stone Wall Memories

it is true the stone wall loss
of our ever beloved ones,
is a barrier too hard to pass
cross for bitter mournful seasons,

stones are hard cold wet
with our 'ice crystallized cold tears',
unyielding in left loneliness
of broken spaces in our souls;

mourning rich beauty
in passing noble lives,
retreating into private
depths of passion grief,

into the torn raw hurt
of missing our beloved,
the wind knife ice blows
savage cold in this winter season;

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poem by Terence George Craddock
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Four prayers during the yearly seasons in the Highveld

I. Spring begins

Spring begins in green almond leaves,
in blossoms appearing snow white in a cobalt blue sky
where the sun sits brilliant white, glowing more intense than golden chandeliers,
where flowers appear and bridge the skeleton of every tree

while rain now pours down regularly,
sieves down in every bush and in the lane
with yellow and pink blossoms
appearing daily, puffing out.

Lord, let these times become a tribute
and what was once dead and winnowed
now become joyous, as a hymn of praise to You,
let fruit appear from the blessing that You are showering,
let my weak youth now overflow splendid, intact
in a life grounded on You, let Your light shine through my branches.

[Reference: Vroegherfs (Four prayers during the yearly seasons in the Boland: Early autumn) by N.P. van Wyk Louw]

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poem by Gert Strydom
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The Box-Tree's Love

Long time beside the squatter's gate
A great grey Box-Tree, early, late,
Or shine or rain, in silence there
Had stood and watched the seasons fare:
Had seen the wind upon the plain
Caress the amber ears of grain;
The river burst its banks and come
Far past its belt of mighty gum:
Had seen the scarlet months of drought
Scourging the land with fiery knout;
And seasons ill and seasons good
Had alternated as they would.
The years were born, had grown and gone,
While suns had set and suns had shone;
Fierce flames had swept; chill waters drenched;—
That sturdy yeoman never blenched.

The Tree had watched the station grow—
The buildings rising row on row;
And from that point of vantage green,

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poem by Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
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End Of Innocence

The time is growing near for me to pack away my things and leave this life behind
And all the things I have known and all that Ive been taught are only in my memory
And Im not sure I want to go away so soon
Stomping grudges Ive known for all these funny years are really miles away
Im scared that well take five Im sure theyll fade in my mind
Im sure theyll fade in my mind
And Im not sure I want to go away so soon
Whoa whoa whoa away so soon...
The seasons change, our times move on
Ill always wish for days like these
The seasons change, our times move on
Ill always wish for days like these
The seasons change, and our times will move on
And Im scared that these are my best days
The seasons change, and our times will move on
But dont let these be mine

song performed by Unsung Zeros
Added by Lucian Velea
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