From a tanzanite sky, festooned with opal clouds,
Spring gazes upon her verdant banquet.
She smiles at bright buds
dancing in the sun like laughing children,
as the wafting wind
rises and twirls a slow ballet
across the meadow.
The serenades of songbirds
ring through the lily scented air,
until Autumn appears,
casting her copper shadow in the sunlight.
Fragile flowers dissolve in shimmering dust,
beneath the train of her gown,
as she glides down the hillside.
Spring turns to her
in a glittering outburst,
cascading crystal raindrops
upon the valley,
and all the flowers stand silent,
until Autumn withdraws,
for this is not her day.
When the cabaret of summer has faded,
and seeds rest
in the dark womb of the earth,
the flowers will lie down and close their eyes,
waiting for autumn
to lay her bronze shroud
over their small soft faces.