poetry about seasons

Fresh and sweet smelt the morn,
With its silver charm and warmth;
Kindled by love so tendered and sought;
Of the snowy blossoms around.

Autumn does bring with it charm,
Of the naked trees and the roaring wind;
To the fluttering of the tiny wings;
Which find it all life in air.

Spring does bring with it charm,
With the lark brightening the day;
Chirping that immortal tune so low;
Making known its love to eternal skies.
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