Seasons
written by: Gregory Matthews
I saw a leaf fall the other day
And a melancholy feeling hit me,
Nothing I can explain,
Just a feeling of nostalgia and gentle memories
Of when I was younger,
Memories are always better than actuality
As they should be,
Memories should get better each passing year
Like a bottle of grape,
And by the time you die,
The bottle should be used up
From recalling all the good times,
So, it was a good melancholy,
Not a sad one,
It made me think of Autumn Leaves
By Nat King Cole,
The falling leaves of red and gold,
Hearing old winter’s song,
I guess the coming of Fall makes me feel this way,
Leading into the season of joy,
Of pumpkins and masks and trick or treats,
Then giving Thanks for all the blessings we’ve had,
(And Lord knows I’ve had many)
Pilgrims and Massasoit and pumpkin pies
And baskets turned into horns o’ plenty,
Arriving at Christmas,
The Big Daddy of all holidays,
The best!
The one holiday that outshines the rest,
The season of Jesus and carols and Charlie Brown,
Of driving around the darkened streets
Seeing the lights of town,
Of watching Gogo hang the ornaments just so,
And department 56 villages all “festooned” with snow,
On we proceed to January 1st, the start of a new year,
We cheer the new and give the old one the boot
Without so much as a tear,
Hoping this year will be better,
Or at least as good as the last,
But really all it means is another year has passed.
Then winter really sets in
And I feel in my back and my poor aching shoulders,
Not any wiser, not any richer,
Still the same old me, just another year older,
The weeks creep by slowly,
March comes in like a lion and stays that way,
April showers come in the form of flakes,
Spring tries to show itself
Only to retreat back into the shadows of wind and frost,
Finally the days get a bit milder
And the tulips bloom again,
Robins build brand new nests,
Ignoring the ones they constructed last year,
Nothing can keep the starlings away!
The steady drone of honeybees fills the air
And before you know it,
The longest day of the year,
At last, Summer’s officially here,
Bluegrass music and fireworks,
Then the dog days come,
Only to be interrupted by the sound of kids
Going to school, having fun,
Carnivals and festivals and football games
And a chill is in the air,
The grain has been cut, the potato vines die
And we’re back where we started.
Mother Earth has completed her cycle.
The circle of life and death,
Of dormancy and re-emergence and dormancy again.
Then I saw another leaf fall.
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