Writing | G. E. Graves

It is summer mostly

Except when it is spring, autumn, or winter

Each season has its applause

Though, summer is the time

Spring rebirths

Fills summer days

Autumn rest

Sets to winters end

Oh the summer when we were kids

Last forever never spent

To spend the day looking to the sky

Imagining pictures as clouds pass by

Trees of green stand stately by

Bending with the gentle breeze

As we climb their up most heights

Castles- forts on the high

Oh those days that was spent

Catching butterflies from off the grass

Summers seasons are still the same

Except for we ... nothing else has changed