The seasons go a’marching by
In all their different ways.
I never do appreciate
The way they change my days.

The Spring goes dancing by this year
With life and beauty grand.
But off she goes away from me
To other spacious lands.

The Summer came with pomp this year
With heat and rain to spare.
I wish he wouldn’t stay so long,
But he doesn’t really care.

The Autumn came at last this year
With beauty in her wake.
She gives her beauty willingly.
I—marveling—do take.

The Winter slowly came this year
With coldness in his heart.
The wind blows high, and snow does fall
That drives away the lark.

The season’s pass this way each year,
Yet somehow we don’t care.
We go to work, and notice none
Of what they freely share.

 

Fergus O’Cleary, a student and aspiring musician, living in the United States.

These poems are among the entries for the Society of Classical Poets’ 2012 Poetry Competition.


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