The repeating seasons

I wrote this a long time ago, and found it while cleaning my computer

As the snow melts from the ground, flowers are found.
As the sun turns hot, the children jump and plot.
As the children shiver, the sun becomes a sliver.
As the sun hides away, the snow comes to play.

Reviews

[Micheal Teal]

Lovely poem. Simple and elegant. I savored each word.

Bravo!