Four

Four distinct patrons oversee the place I call home,

Each with their own set of principles

They’re personalities shape the course of our lives as they enter,

Each one bringing it’s own joys

 

The first of these brings days the sun beats down upon our skin,

Warming us to our very cores

It brings raspberry stained hands,

And the creak of an old branch,

Giving little by little,

While a child swings back and forth below

 

The second brings beautiful transformation

Brilliant reds, oranges, yellows

Cider spilt on jackets,

And early mornings for steamy breaths waiting for the school bus

Afternoons are for laying in the leaf piles,

While we laugh at the sky

 

The third of these brings snow forts that tower miles high

Sparkling white mountains,

And red tipped noses

Hot chocolate that warms from the inside,

Fires that meet halfway

Wool sweaters to capture it all

 

The fourth, and last, brings wet earth,

An unmistakeable smell particular to the bloom of wildflowers

It brings green buds,

Small blossoms,

L i f e

 

I would never trade for more or less of each of these four,

Each one a perfect balance of the others

These four overlook my home,

Guiding its residents,

With their miraculous works

Four ever overturning rulers,

Making life the complex beautiful thing that it is

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741