Summer's over, next the Fall
Then dark Winter days and all
The rain, the sleet, snow and blow,
With nothing on the earth to show
The splendid beauty that will ring
With the coming of the Spring.
But deep below, the earth's alive,
Anticipatingly, a hive
Of growing expectation,
Spring flowers in their elation,
Their roots and shoots are sending forth
New life and hope of brighter days
With glowing colour and sun's warm rays.
The snowdrop, crocus, tulip, 'dil,
Are sending forth their heads, to fill
Our gardens, be they large or small,
With radiance that our eyes enthral
And soon the birds will flutter by,
Perhaps Red Admirals espy.
But with this beauty comes the chores
Of hours of toil spent out of doors,
Removing flowers that wildly grow
And then the lawn we have to mow.
The shears and mowers alone wont work
But these are chores that we can't shirk
If we a garden glorious show
Flowers, that with radient splendour, grow.
But after all the toil is done
And there is no more radient sun,
The leaves, autumnal colours, turn
And mowers, to the shed adjourn.