"Four Seasons" by Sic Parvis Magna

[Soule]

Scar - Spring

Father was always distant. Away at jobs, he was often missing
there’s a coldness about him. A lake, frozen; heart, dismissive
Each evening the temperature drops, not even a word
Maybe single syllable replies with inserts of “sighs” and a serving
Of coffee and cake with Icings - the irony, so fitting though unclear
I tried conversating but he would turn my way with the coldest stare

Mother was boisterous; fiery. Temperature tailing July
Wears her emotions on her sleeves, mid-summer evening’s design
The living is easy. Casseroles. Green beans, good spirits and wine
“Janette just bought a new Volkswagen, honey, After dinner we’ll stop by”
Loves her summer dress. When she walks, the pattern moved as if in bloom
And me, just a seasonal offSPRING between February and June.

Rude - Summer

A summer storm is fast approaching like fireworks in gas explosions.
The sky lit up - a canvas, posing. Then fades away a ballad, smoking.
The day embraced in candid moments, a faint escape, the rapids - soaking.
Which gave way to classic homeruns, each game played til the last is gloating.
Fresh cut grass and a broomstick buys, a ticket to adventure, the blueprint kind.
New cinema flick - you've viewed it twice. Camp under the stars & a moonlit sky.
The breeze wanes by, revealing flowers in full bloom where the bees make hives.
The sweet rains dry, giving a short pause in the heatwave high.
Summer halts - a caution of transit, as each tree transforms into fossils with branches.
The air shifts - leaves fall into panic, setting the scene as Autumn advances...

MCD - Autumn

I build a bridge between warmer climes and frozen shores,
my presence transitional - no permanence, death's an open door.
I lay in wait all summer long up in the polar regions,
then hurry south once summer's out around October season.
My auburn gown shrouds the World in golden luminance
as I bring about the shorter days of mellow mists and fruitfulness.
Those stubborn weeds and leaves now walk a narrow tightrope,
as i roll up my ruby sleeves and spin a North Atlantic cyclone,
to shake the trees with thunderous force - my awesome rhapsody.
A chaperone for nature's old - I sing and court them back to sleep.

Mr. Soule' - Winter

My tears caress rubies and emeralds, as a father reads by a timid flame,
I watch through dewy windows as their tree ominously glistens grace.
An angel sits at the top, blessing the children with her pearlescent physique,
both kids and the dog nestling together beneath the ornaments, asleep.
The mother sips her cocoa, trapped admiring her soft spoken savior
as she prints out photos, he begins to wrap presents with golden paper.
Just a few moments later, the children are tucked in and gently kissed,
but awoken by a snowy mist, consider it something like Winter's gift.
As I hold your hands from this year to the next, and leave come March,
just know that your love filled tears are the best memories thus far...