I saw a blog asking for poems, short stories on the subject of circular. Tougher than it looks. But here is my effort that I will submit and hope it is liked/enjoyed. Well, at least I try and I do enjoy the trying.
Pastle blossoms swirl in the vortex,
A snowstorm of soft petals that caress,
Lifted higher, reaching for zeniths,
Cascading, earthbound, with tumbling finesse.
Leaping lambs, frolic in meadows,
Ewes, watchful, calling their young,
New leaf, dancing, on the breeze of a melody,
The tune of a mothers tongue.
Sundrenched fields of gold slowly sway,
Swallows drift in endless skies,
Streams meander, whispering lazily onward,
Dust motes float on a breezes sighs.
The toils of ones labours brings forth the fruit,
Reap the harvest, the bounty of this land,
Watch sunsets fire, blaze across the dusk,
As summer submits to falls demands.
Trees scream their defiance at Autumns rape,
Roses succumb to natures fate, and yet,
The scourge of fate that decends on forests of pine,
Becoming of winters brief vignette.
Snow swathes into a bleached distance,
An untouched paradise of a lifeless portrait
Icicles glisten, like tortured crystal,
In silence they urgently wait.
Meltoff hurtles down mountains in a tumultuous avalanche,
Glaciers depart, into sombre retreat,
Spring warmth, marches to glorious victory,
Again the cycle is now complete.