On the beach in early June,
One of summers simple pleasures.
Children laughing , playing,
Digging in the sand for treasures.
The sweet, warm, breath of summer,
Turns to an early chill.
As September slips in silently.
Hints of color touch the hills.
Early signs of autum,
Like the nip upon the air.
First the blazing foliage.
Then trees all standing bare.
Before long the cold of winter,
Spreads its snow white cover.
Trees bent beneath frozen weight.
Breath, that seems to hover.
Smells of log fires burning,
Chasing out the winters chill.
Children playing , laughing.
Sledding down the hills.
Summers fun forgotten,
Lost unto the frozen pleasures.
No thoughts of sunny beaches.
Where the children dig for treasures.
Before long the snow is melting,
Come the blossoms of the spring.
The land awakens swiftly.
As the Robins start to sing.
The circle goes unbroken.
As it has for years before.
Again the children digging .
Seeking treasures by the shore.