The down pour in Summer,
Makes me Warmer.
On the bed the Snorer,
Eater and Shitter, I am the Rarer.
Flowers and Trees, Yellow they Turn.
Like the Flames Burn.
Land Barren and Birds Quite,
Here comes Flying, the Autumn's Kite.
The weather out is Freezing.
All get together Buzzing.
With blankets Pulled,
They say "Winter has Called".
With Green it looks Beautiful.
Birds chirp, its Cheerful.
Fresh Trees and Flowers Sprung,
It is the call of Spring.
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