Enchanted woods and forests high on hills,
Miraculous views and hight to give you chills.
Frost on trees and white winter snow,
And through the wind snowflakes blow.
This is the countryside with all its might,
Giving in to winters fight.
Yet at last spring has sprung,
To bring flowers and fun.
Bulbs silently spring from the ground,
Not a patch of bear land to be found.
They bloom into roses and little white daisies,
While pollen in the air makes you feel hazy.
This is the countryside with all its might,
Giving in to springs fight.
Yet at last summer has sprung,
To bring long days in the sun.
The sun is high,
Not a cloud in the sky.
The weather warm,
The beaches swarmed.
This is the countryside with all its might,
Giving in to summers might.
Yet at last Autumn has sprung,
For misty days and cold suns.
Golden leaves beneath your feet,
Grounds covered in icy sleet.
Some birds no longer cheep,
As animals drift slowly asleep.
This is the countryside with the seasons might,
Always giving in to Spring, summer, autumn and winter’s fight.
Always changing every year,
As time slowly disappears.