The soil will say, “go spring the new season
where growth overthrows, all green in treason.
Life has grounds: unearths dirty reason.
Use, use;
I must have use.
The free, summer poppies exclaim, “you sky
had urged us where breeze flies its sigh.
We'ill flush in blooms our hues.. that blue of your eye! ”
Fuse, fuse;
We want to fuse.
Autumn’s crayons demand, “De-nude the land
as we, shakers-movers strip leaf of command.
June’s long sentenced to death. Sun mules contraband.”
Noose, noose;
You’re for the noose.
Old north wind proclaims, “ I wither long days
as I bring up winters. They’re loud, hard to raise;
rescind you by wind. They snowbound all you say.
Lose, lose;
With me, you’ll lose.
Glenn Bagshaw
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-seasons-8/