Makes me think that ...
She is fickle as the buffeting breeze
Her onslaughts of rain
Turning as abruptly to floods of sunlight
Her touch is chill yet still brings with it a glimmer of warmth
The scent of mown grass, rich earth and the sweet perfume of new life emerging
Her presence alluring, her attire frivolous
She comes bedecked with garlands of budding flowers and trains of blossom
Changing the world from a bare, grey drudgery
To shades of lush greens, vivid yellows, subtle pinks, purples and dazzling blues
She frolics in the tumbling flight, the scudding clouds
Flirts with the returning song
And only fades as the flowers turn to fruits
The imagery of the transition of the seasons is caught so well in these words.
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