The four seasons

Under the spell of spring gardens
In the youth of one’s being
To drink upon the cask of hours
Neath the mystical star cascade
Strewn free into this prism
Into the magnitude of moment’s
Swirling about the ancient sky
In some celestial ballet
Lost in contemplation
Before the flowery moon
Staring deep into the heavens
Into the divinity of the soul

Of summers hot steamy drum
Lost in its jazz-like rhythms
With the sea song salt air
Undressing her poems blazing fury
Down the rum dance of sidewalk
Through the splashing of neon
Spellbound and dreaming
Neath a fog moon eye
Caught fast in this prism
With Picasso like vision
Adrift upon the sail
Of the vagabond sky

Beneath a patch of fall sky`
The soft smell of antique musk
And a delicate wisp of frost
Drift naked upon the Autumn air
The maple stand of statuesque trees
Their circus leaves falling
With the pastel winds blowing
Enchanting this town by the sea
The boats the clouds the bridge the sky
Rippling upon the mirrored waters
Bursting into impressionistic color
Within this surreal Monet moment

Into the magic of winter
Lost in the sounds of silence
The snow is casually falling
Delicately blanketing the ground
The angelic pillowing clouds
Softly curl about the heavens
As frost sparkles atop the snow
With icicles hanging in the wood
As the echo’s of the distance call
From far off in the clearing
Images fill the glistening air
With the artistry of being

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Just various moments with the four seasons, within different years, while living in New England. It used to be in a much longer poem, with 12 versus, titled, These days. I ended up breaking it up into 6 poems. It made it more enjoyable, and less boring to read, I hope you do enjoy it.