The fields are rich-seasons poem
The fields are rich with daffodils, A coat of clover cloaks the hills, And I must dance, and I must sing To see the beauty of the spring. The earth is warm, the sun's ablaze, It is a time of carefree days; And bees abuzz that chance to pass May see me snoozing in the grass. The leaves are yellow, red, and brown, A shower sprinkles softly down; The air is fragrant, crisp, and cool, And once again I'm stuck in school. The birds are gone, the world is white, The winds are wild, they chill and bite; The ground is thick with slush and sleet, And I can barely feel my feet. The last is done, the next is here, The same as it is every year; Spring -- then sunshine ' autumn ' snow, That is how each year must go.