“It’s not fair,” scowled Winter Wonderland.
“I’m pretty as can be.
My snow is white and glistening
So all the kids can ski.”
“I paint hills and house tops
In opalescent splendor
Sculpt crystal, dripping, icicles
When Autumn does surrender.”
“And still she favors Summer Sun,
That breath blows hot and dry.
Summer dries the foliage
Making all the plant life die.”
“And bright! Oh goodness, gracious!
Let’s talk about that light!
The harsh hot breath of Summer
Steals coolness even from the night!”
Summer squinted harshly.
“That’s not the way at all.
Yes, she loves the longer days
Longer than those of Winter or of fall.”
“Though she loves my warm-breezed-nights,”
continued, Summer Sun.
“She prefers it cooler.
So Autumn is the one.”
Summer Sun persisted,
“She truly loves Autumn best
I’ve seen her green eyes sparkle
When Autumn’s chills caress.”
“She really favors Autumn’s
Crisp nights and orange colors
In spite of all my beauty
Its Autumn she adores.”
“Oh no. That’s not quite right,”
Autumn then replied.
“Though she loves the color spectacular,
Not so much that Spring would be denied.”
Spring began quite softly
For Spring was sort of shy.
Spring’s voice, a quiet whisper
A light and gentle try.
“Autumn is so pretty.
Summer is so fun.
Winter is so glorious.
How can she pick just one?”
The other seasons listened.
They knew that Spring was right.
Though Spring’s voice was just a lilt
Those words were filled with might
Without Winter Wonderland
The heat would melt the earth.
Without the warmth of Summer Sun
The cold would be too much.
Without the shades of Autumn
The fresh bouquets of Spring
Without the changing seasons
Life wouldn’t mean a thing.
The Seasons flowed together
Not needing to compete.
Holding hands, all weather
The Seasons were complete.