Seasons have no reasons
These come and go,
In these he, you and I do
How much we do and know
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A fabulous little write with substantial sense.loved it.. congratulations..!!
Seasons have no reasons These come and go, In these he, you and I do How much we do and know With the muse of storing hays For the life and the soul For now and then And for now and then.
With the muse of storing hays! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.