Change of Season

Change of Season …

When did the days,

become so very short?

When did time go by so quickly?

 

A cold north wind,

brushed my cheek

and I realized summer had gone,

but in a blink of the eye.

Change of season,

had taken place.

Songbirds had flown,

had I known they were taking wing,

sad songs I would sing.

Long will be the time,

when their symphonies we’ll hear.

 

Before I knew it,

the day began

and just as quickly ended.

The dark, long nights,

have ascended

and it seems such a long way to go,

before the bright days –

of spring and summer return.

 

There is all of autumn ahead,

a dark tunnel,

filled with swirling leaves,

that will soon be followed –

by silvery falling snowflakes.

 

And I?

 

Shall protest against the freezing cold,

protest against the snow and ice.

Only be glad for the beauty,

of ice flowers, Jack Frost will bring,

to my window pane.

Cold northern winds,

that will blow

and there’ll be a white and frozen land.

It will be so harsh and cruel,

before the light of day,

shines again.

The long, dark nights have ascended

and I have to follow through,

step by step  –

till the seasons change once more.

I protest against the harshness,

the darkness,

settling down to grump –

until spring jumps over the windowsill.

 

Rasma Raisters
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Rasma Raisters

I am a poet and writer. I write for many different sites online. I have two published books of poems on Amazon - Poetic Thoughts Fly and On the Wings of Love.

6 thoughts on “Change of Season

  • August 21, 2019 at 3:00 AM
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    Lovely verse Rasma. Here in Colorado we get all 4 seasons and I look forward to each and every one of them. Autumn is by far my favorite – I love the cooler, but not to cold temperatures and the turning of the leaves.

    • August 21, 2019 at 11:23 AM
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      Thank you, Kurt. I miss all four seasons now that I am in Florida. It is always hard to tell exactily which season we are in since not much changes.

  • August 22, 2019 at 6:39 AM
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    Yes, it is a lovely verse, Rasma. I enjoy the four seasons we get, even though it is harder each year to tolerate the cold winters. But I do see the beauty of bare trees with branches lined in snow. We live in a migratory zone in Nevada and Robin is here year-round to sing to us. I agree with Kurt, Autumn is my favorite season, too. Well done on this poem, Rasma.

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