Uncle time has cute wives four,
In climate club they’ve membership.
“Prettier is me,” they all think,
Sweet is each, but one is more.
The dame named Spring has
A prettified look
With blooms of all kinds
On all her garments.
Spreading the aroma of scent
She sprays; enters gently
In style much special
Exhibiting all her chic with pride.
Fall for her, the passersby
As, she bears a smile spellbound.
Keeps she peeps of covert mode
And rejoices at her lovely make.
When she goes, comes lass furious,
Wearing garbs of precious brightness
Borrowing sticks from Sun, the Great,
Slaps she Beings, if hinder her way.
Appears a girl in costume of dull look
And quenches, she the thirst of Earth.
Autumn when goes for slumber long
Coolly Emerges madam winter.
Chilling properties, Mother Earth owns
Makes her presence apparent.
If frowns one of them with discontent
Things will turn here topsy-turvy.