The Yearly Cycles
Story by Fane_Vulpesaur on SoFurry
I have mixed feelings about this poem. There are parts I like and there are parts I'm iffy about, but couldn't fix it after days of editing. It was good practice though. I feel like I've gotten a better handle of describing scenes and environments and I expanded my vocabulary within the poem. This also took me a long time to write. Nearly a week after I started it, I finished it. This poem was written on 6/4/2016.
Suggested by mapleplayer013.
Written by me, Fane Star
The Earth can be harsh and beautiful.
Around the world we can watch
Predictable changes at work.
Some areas see less change,
Others see more.
Each change brings calm and storm.
In a little town and its surrounding nature,
From the bitter cold to the intense heat,
Will experience amazing yearly seasons.
The first season they see each year
Is the most unforgiving.
The frigid air chills all it touches.
The Sun’s rays do not warm.
A time when all seems deserted and dead.
Then you take another look around
And see a more peaceful view.
A quiet place with little trace,
Of the life that resides here.
Snow and ice cover everything.
The trees are exposed and bare.
The sounds of birds are faint and few.
The feet of squirrels are sparse and light.
The prints of local deer step from tree to tree,
The sights in the town are wintry and fair.
The streets are lined with ice sculptures that glisten in the sun.
The older townsfolk are quiet.
Children gleefully shout and play on the hills.
Behind them are the flattened trails
Of different types of sleds.
Between the houses the young ones hide
To shield themselves in mid snowy war.
The town scurries from shelter to shelter
Wrapped in cotton and wool.
Soon the town will begin to melt,
While a new period takes its place.
Through the frost sprouts the second season.
The time of conception and the time to thrive.
The frigid air warms and humidity rises.
A perfect recipe for disaster and life.
The early mornings are drizzled in life giving rains,
That help the plants bloom and birth.
The storms will brew and destroy.
Between the storms there exists a separate world,
Full of color and full of movement.
Flowers attract miniature fliers
Who wear black and yellow.
They hurriedly move from flower to flower,
To cook up amber goo.
All sorts of critters flock and scamper.
Amid the field you see humans stirring.
Walking through the flowering fields.
The young picking reds, yellows, and purples
To weave into a living wreath.
On the edge of the field and within local parks
Artists brandish paint coated brushes,
To reproduce the gorgeous landscapes.
Throughout the day families are seen
Traversing on two wheeled contraptions.
Powered by their feet they swiftly move up and down the hills.
Through the fun each person knows this cannot last forever.
Soon the land will move on,
The next season will begin.
Another merciless season emerges
In the midmost of the year.
The time of heatwaves and long days.
A perfect time to mature and grow.
Hardy flowers are still surviving.
The grasses reach their apex of green.
All around wildlife frolic under the shade of the thick trees.
It’s the perfect time to watch the younglings season.
In the town the cool, clear waters
Are teeming with people warding off the heat.
The ponds are full of kids how to swim.
Other children run around playing sports on the lawn.
The competition is fierce enough to ignore the heat.
An artist can be seen covered in colored dust,
Glancing over their chalk drawing on the sidewalk.
However long this season burns,
It will always begin to cool.
Now it’s time to end the yearly cycle,
With another pleasant time.
The last and one of the most magnificent
Of the yearly seasons.
A time of great change and preparation.
The fauna gather food for the upcoming freeze.
The flora release their leafy and floral burdens.
The trees lose their green and their leaves.
They decorate the environment in earthy colors.
Causing the trees to look ancient and wise.
With the cooler weather comes a new town.
A place of pumpkin and spices.
Pastries and pies are seen in every shop,
Waiting to be paired with warm brew.
Carvings of the edible and the natural kind,
Can be viewed and sold to all.
Beautiful carvings of wood line the streets.
Preparing the people for the carvings of ice,
Soon to take their place.
Pumpkins, breads, and cakes perfume the air.
Carved in different shapes and dyed multicolored.
Leaves sit in large piles in the yards.
Waiting to be jumped in and scattered around.
Here this town sees the year begin to end,
As the season shifts to the start.
The seasons are beautiful and special.
They’re more than just our placement in space.
They’re a yearly life cycle.
A yearly miracle of so much more.
Representations of wealth and poverty.
Periods of time to inspire awe in all.
A seemingly endless cycle,
A never ending prediction.
Written by: Fane Star