give me a poem about any seasons[10 lines]?

Answer 1

Winter
One day when it's winter
When the tall oak groans in northern winds
When cruel frost creeps white beneath the bark
And twigs once sappy and green
Shake brittle and dry in the darkening

Then come to my door
Let yellow light spill out
Let me wrap you in warm
Let summer kisses bring back roses

What wingspan glides in the blue August skies
Soar and circle
Paired in gentle harmony, one other
Melt, then--
Be with me

Answer 2

Fall

The sun is migrating farther and can’t warm the town
Letting the wind have fun driving temperature down
Breathe deep and inhale the crisp air.
Wrap up, deny the cold winter anxious stare.
Green leaves color and a rustic rainbow grows
Red, Orange, Brown Mother Nature artistic side shows
All grass fading fast and wasting away
Neighbors of tan carpet and rich dirt into dry clay
Children line the streets waiting for big mobile birds
Returning from summers play back to learn more knowledge words.

Answer 3

Robert Frost
Poetry


Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
**************************************************************


Twas a thought while I waited for a cab,
The splendor of Autumn had turned to drab.
Gone were the days of harvest gold,
replaced by the fresh winters cold.

Sleep dear land, wrapped in a blanket of snow,
Sleep till natures time to grow.
And I, in my house all snug and warm,
shall watch the snow flakes fall.

Reminiscing of other times when the seasons changed, and once again, nature rearranged.

Answer 4

Summer

The rays of the sun glisten off the water
I can't imagine it getting much hotter
The sunscreen is running off my nose
I just want to jump through the hose
Swimming, picknicking, and flying a kite
Watching the lightning bugs dance in the night
Truly enjoying this time of year
With no classes or schoolwork to fear
It will surely be a disapointing bummer
When fall comes and takes away this summer

Answer 5

The poem Ode to Autumn by John Keats .(1795-1821)

This poem is longer than the 10 lines you wished to have,I am afraid, but it is a delight to the ears , eyes and all the senses. I simply adore it and have studied it at school. one of my best. Hope you enjoy it too.

Ode To Autumn

SEASON of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees, 5
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease; 10
For Summer has o’erbrimm’d their clammy cells.

Who hath not seen Thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind; 15
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twine´d flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook; 20
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,
While barre´d clouds bloom the soft-dying day 25
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river-sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; 30
Hedge-crickets sing, and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.