Spring: The wild is at full bloom the delicate birds sing a beautiful tune,
The delicate sound flows through the air, what a wonderful thing to share.

Summer: The leaves in the trees rustle in the gentle breeze,
The dancing fish in the babbling brook there are noises in every cranny and nook.

Autumn: A shiny brown conker with a green spiky shell, resting under the tree from which it fell,
The leaves turn orange then red then brown as they twist and twirl slowly down

Winter: There’s a thick blanket of snow on the meadow, replacing the grass that was gone long ago,
The animals are buried for a long winters sleep, under the snow so very deep.

The seasons are full of the wilds great glory each different one tells a different story.