By David Roth
© 22 October, 2004
How different from the Rains of Spring,
The mists of Autumn, the songs they sing.
New life and warmth, Spring Rains proclaim,
From Autumn Mists, a different game.
Spring Rain sings a hopeful song.
While Autumn Mist chills to the bone.
In contrast to the warmth of Spring,
The Mist of Autumn cries, Jack Frost is King!
The gentle patter of Spring Rain,
Life’s cycle returns full again.
How different is the Autumn Mist,
Whose frost-laced tears bring Winter’s kiss.
Spring rain, a cheerful pallet shows,
Broad strokes on canvas in repose,
But shades of cold and dabs of gray,
The Misty Autumn paints display.
And so farewell, sweet Rain of Spring,
O’ distant echo’d, April fling.
Give way to Winter’s cold mistress,
Borne on the wings of Autumn Mist.
