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The Four Seasons in Kansas

Four new sonnets for the four seasons of Kansas

SPRING

Our meadowlarks are nesting on the ground
As cattle sniff the breezes by the stream.
Above, the sky grows dark as in a dream
And flashes skirt horizons all around.

The grass will cover prairies with bright green,
And big and little bluestem tempt each cow.
As tractors move across the plain to plow
The dogs are hunting pheasants still unseen.

Some evenings bring the music of the soil,
And all the workers know it's time to share.
The fiddles play and guitars strum along,
The planting time has been a time of song.
As farmers sow their seed both here and there
They still take time to dance, forgetting toil.

SUMMER

A farmhand lies upon the year old hay.
He languishes and dithers in the barn
As gentle winds bring tales and spin a yarn
Of flocks of sheep and goats in fields at play.

And growth continues as the rains arrive
To feed the crops and bring them all to life.
Some lightning strikes may often bring new strife
With flames across the earth, but still we thrive.

The months are passing and the growth is fed
By storms, tornadoes, moisture that we need,
To withstand all the heat that we will feel
We hope for downpours, thunder claps to peal.
As hail destroys some grain the wives will plead
To Providence while kneeling by the bed.

AUTUMN

Good harvests, wheat and corn is what they reap, 
And those who labor sing aloud a song
To help them as they work the hours long,
Until they drift away each night in sleep.

The wind is blowing leaves from turning trees,
The cottonwoods and oaks along the stream.
Good wives who shared the pain and joy can dream.
While moonlight fills the land they take their ease.

When all the reaping time has passed them by
It's time to seek the prey that fills the state
So deer and quail may fill the larder shelves.
As hunters search the land they treat themselves
With nips of warming whiskey as they wait,
With shotguns and with rifles game will die.

WINTER

The fronts come barreling across the plains.
They bring a wet distressing bout of snow
And stamping feet cannot bring back a glow
While chattering and shivering remains.

Within the tightly sealed abodes they wait,
And share the quiet times in happiness
Before the roaring fire that brings a bliss.
They take few walks on ice to tempt their fate.

The children take it all in stride and glee,
With sleds that slide down sleet encrusted hills,
And take the falls with laughter and with fun.
The cracking of the ice foretells the sun 
Returning to the sky to chase the chills.
With winds of change the land will be set free.

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Copyright © Copyright © 2012 - {2019} All rights reserved. This work may not be reproduced or distributed or published in any form without permission from the author. Send requests to lfrankn@yahoo.com

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