Seasonal Glory

The kaleidoscope swirled
before my eyes, As the colours changed, from yellow and green to white.
The scenes of Witch Hazels outside my window shifted,
As each season came, and
the latter, drifted.
 
With spells of fragrance
and bunches of flowers, Melodies of cuckoos and
‘rays in showers.
Spring is marked to enchant the winter tragic, And
revitalise environment with hues of magic.
 
The draught of spring
collapses, and rushes in
summer, With singing
cicadas and the heat
overpowering burners,
Grasses malachite
and Hazels green,
And beetles larger than those ever seen.
 
The wand is waved, turning green to yellow, And the fruit is reaped, bright and mellow.
Bald cypresses entranced
to absorb red and let green
to heave, Pumpkins carved and cursed, orange for
All Hallows Eve.
 
The red dies away, as the
tender flake approaches, Hazel’s hues vanish, as o’er
it winter encroaches.
Christmas bells jingle
across foot printed snow.
The year is going, with
candy canes and mistletoes.
Hazel changes as
seasons flicker. Winds
rustle and leaves bicker.
But one that remains
unchanged and all the tree Witch Hazel, standing lean and tall.
 
Never does it once give in to shavings and decorations, And stands defenceless,
coping with all seasons
or frustrations.
And as hard times strip it and adorn it, It perceives its aegis, bit-by-bit. It perceives the aegis, bit-by-bit.

Sanya Sinha
Class IX
Notre Dame Academy