Season, it's season,
if you wish me to say...
when I feel December,
in the burning heat of May.
Soothing morning breeze,
blended with ray...
golden mist, lying ahead,
so charming and gay.
Cloudy sky, shedding the sun,
being the canopy of the day...
stormy wind is blowing hard,
drizzling gently, all the way.
Feeling the warmth, but not the heat,
to sun's utter dismay...
Absorbing the heat, the thunder roars,
taking it all away.
Season, it's season,
if you wish me to say...
when I feel the night,
in the burning time of day.
Chilly night sky, dotted with stars,
sparkling in evident way...
silvery moon is peering through,
absorbing the hot n' bright day.
Noisy day is taken over,
by the solemnity of grey...
nature is smiling in the silence,
as the sounds fade away.
Lady of night is strolling slowly
spreading a calm array...
singing the silence of sublime beauty,
peacefully, where the darkness lays
Season, it's season,
if you wish me to say...
when I feel illusions,
in the reality of day.
Posts
