Is something bound to bring us cheer.
There's joy in all the changing seasons,
And, reading on, you'll find the reasons.
January glistens white,
The children whoop with sheer delight,
Whilst adults cope with soggy socks,
The frozen plumbing, iced-up locks.
Feb's comfort food means excess pounds,
The germs awake to do the rounds.
We, weary, ache without abatement
And fret about the Access statement.
March: invigorating gales!
Wind-chapped lips and what else ails?
Winter clings with icy finger,
Coughs and streaming colds still linger.
April: lambs and calves and flowers
And, in between those April showers,
Short interludes of sun-bright time
Show up so well that winter grime.
In May new leaves and shoots appear.
Oh blessed, greenest time of year.
The garden beckons. Cast off sloth
And set about the undergrowth.
June: with book and brimming glass
We venture out...Ah! new-mown grass.
Eyes overflow, the sneezes mount.
We contemplate the pollen count...
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