Four Seasons Has the World

Winter Hunt
Scott L Vannatter – rewritten 6-23-2012

Snow drifts cover the once greenness of the half-acre.
Tiny wings flutter round gathering bits of bites for nibbles and sustenance.
Landing gently, stepping lightly, the tufts of white and color move across.

Tabby, three colors ribboning his sinewy-muscled bulk, glares in whiteness.
Mice and rodents, less common than before, elude the predator.
Keen, deep eyes miss nothing, see the flying food as they dip and dart.

Tri-hue steeps his haunches, sitting back, quietly waiting for the moment.
Patience gives, pouncer moves forward, a blue-tail picking at the crusty white.
Moment comes, legs press at launch, breaking drift, send feline to a white hell.

Autumn Play
By Scott L Vannatter – 6-23-2012

Coolness blows fresh across the ground, through the air.
Trees let flutter their brushes, their paints spinning to the ground.
Rakes skirt across the cold grass, pulling paints into piles of dampened color.

Piles grow, softness too, until the whooping sound of pumping legs rings out.
The motion grows silent, but for rush of air, ending in a yell of success.
Painted piles of softness become alive, arms and legs poke out in all directions.

Inside after, chocolate thick and hot brings life to the kitchen.
Sweet spheres of puffy sugar pelt the liquid, adding new tastes to an old treat.
Eyes light up as cookies, warm and melted, flow onto a plate made empty.

Spring Cornucopia
By Scott L Vannatter 6-23-2012

Freshness drops from the sky, turning the brown shoots to green sprigs of life.
Pools of liquid stand on ground, the reviving pool being breathed in by earth.
Sprigs reach and tendril fingers skyward, yearning for freedom of sun, warmth.

Bird and beast, insect and worm all savor the glory of life reborn.
Death from starkness and cold forgotten, games of joy and happiness abound.
Youth springs forth, claiming its short reign of strength before giving to cold.

People, awakened, press forth in hoods of hues marking miles and time.
Others, sit quietly, flowers on benches, basking in the same warmth as the rest.
Lovers kiss, making loud promises of March before December chills trust.

Summer Love
By Scott L Vannatter 6-23-2012

The cycle of life moves out of birth and into youth, beginnings of adulthood.
Babies grow and maturity, a certain thing, is tried on, perhaps too early.
A warmth settles in, but the type not known as either heat or desire it be.

Passions of spring grow strong by summer’s sun and love endures the heat.
Avoiding the swelter, he and she live at twilight, the darkness inviting amour.
Embraces stoke the furnace blaze, and kisses fan the fire.

Hand in hand, the couples sigh, they are shielded from desolate coldness.
A temporary respite guides their minds, their hearts and souls embrace.
Test of winter not yet made to see if truth shall triumph or blossoms will die.

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