Opening the door where Canada lays,
The temperature of earth drops like a stone,
As random gusts of cold wind assaults against my face,
Forcing me to pull up my coat tight,
The sky above is painted a light shade of grey,
Elicits the appearance of a rainstorm.
Down the sidewalk of the neighborhood,
My eyes gaze at a picture-perfect scenary,
Of rows of trees dipped in natural dye,
Dark red, bright fading yellow, light orange, plum purple and golden brown,
Dry leaves are set free from their branches,
And sank down to the ground,
Making a mess,
No one ever seems to care about it,
No one volunteers to clear them away,
But just leave them behind as a display.
When fall approaches by,
People would rather stay hidden in residence,
Chewing turkey for Thanksgiving,
And later prepare for Halloween,
To celebrate the birth of fall,
But soon it will fade away,
As you might watch the plants wither,
Signalling the coming winter.
This season,
Revealing the hint of a beautiful landscape,
The very first time in real life,
That set originally before my eyes,
I wonder what does autumn stands for,
And what will happen next in my life.
White Landscape
The sky above is carpeted in clouds of grey,
The surroundings turn cold and numb,
Like as if the hour on the clock is frozen,
In the blink of an eye,
Tiny sprinkles of snow rain down,
The storm mount up into thick ice,
Which spread throughout the city.
Through my window,
My eyes gaze on the pearl paradise,
The roads are sandwiched with ice sidewalks and grasses,
The whole neighbourhood is frozen under the Earth refridgerator,
Children scatter around,
Throwing a party of snowball fights, leaving marks of snow angles, and building giant snowmans,
Adults grunt in complaint while shovelling their driveways and wiping snow off their car windshields.
In forests,
You can pronounce "picture perfect",
When looking at the snow-covered flora,
Downtown,
You can get the illusion of a postcard,
When you see the large pile of snow on mountain peaks,
In the evenings,
You will be surprised that the snow is still standing,
Never melt,
As the sunset glistened on ice with soft shades of colours.
For the first time,
I immerse into the Artic mode,
Feeling the snow dripping onto my skin,
Nearly slip on melting bits of ice,
Step onto the overlapping opal-colour earth,
And mould them into snowballs for a playful war.
Winter,
Reveals a postcard scenery,
An alive portrait by the window,
It is sure an amazing sight to see,
Wish it wouldn't fade away.
Cherry Blossoms of Vancouver
Dark cumulonimbus clings above the earth,
Are finally gone,
The mighty sun pokes through the clouds,
Shines down like a heaven's flashlight,
Fights its heat against the cold breeze,
I feel the conditioning air blasts to my face,
In front of me,
A newly-created garden is formed.
This garden,
Sandwiched and landscaped with the hustle-bustle city,
Like a Sakura jungle,
Buds slowly swirling out into flowers,
Thousands of them that hangs from branches,
Revealing a spectacular creation called cherry blossoms.
Beneath my feet,
Not only cement pavements are connected to tar-covered roads,
Soft, luscious grass spreads long and wide,
Forming tiny, enchanted daisies and dandelions,
Of white and pink,
Some sunflowers,
Small and fragile,
Rose up from the wild grasses,
That gives a heavenly smell whenever a pedastrian went.
Far from me,
The rows and columns of cherry blossoms,
Have a large number of friends,
Accompanied by shrubs of geranium,
Together with various tulips,
White, red, yellow, purple, magenta,
You name it,
Orchids that are painted in cream, topaz and cherry,
Swayed to the sound of air,
Lavenders perfumed out the scent of wonder,
Bluebells tingled to the atmosphere like windchimes,
The tree relatives,
Oak, poplar, maple, and pine,
Are alerted by the calling of a new morning.
The awakening of nature,
The landscape of flora,
Became a spring paradise,
I wish I can lay down here forever,
And gaze at the sudden gentle showers,
Of the cherry blossoms,
In Vancouver.
Don't go away! I'll be writing a poem about summer during the family vacation in Los Angeles next week! =)
Oh! And when all four poems are written, I'll combine all four seasons into one poem as a summary!
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