Poem by Arthur Stanley Bourinot

The Four Seasons

In winter we have icicles,
Toboggans on the slopes,
In summer we ride bicycles
And skip with skipping ropes.

In autumn we eat apples, plums,
Bon-fires we build with zest.
In spring when maple syrup comes
We think the spring is best.

1. Jack in the Pulpit

Frederick Locker-Lampson The Four Seasons ("Two wayward imps, all smiles or tears")

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