New blooming flowers draw forward buzzing bees
inspiring budding poets with frivolous reveries,
this joyous re-creation, once poetic enough
spawns a thousand imitators – spring can fuck right off!

The glorious calms of a beach bathed in sun
triggers a thousand lines of torture begun,
this scent-filled glory, once poetic enough
to waste the paper and ink – summer can fuck right off!

The mourning skies becoming dull and brown;
woodland walks stir the poet to get words down,
this reflective mood returning, once poetic enough,
each leaf holds another cliche – autumn can fuck right off!

In hibernation, sat in front of a warm log fire
each crackle and sizzle will, the poet inspire;
This year’s snow (as every year!), once poetic enough;
the word weary reader wonders – winter can fuck right off!