Quatrain

__Winter__ When winter faithfully comes around, leaves stubbornly quit falling down. Snow looks like crystals of white, and they glimmer in the shinning, bright, light.

__Spring__ The small little flowers, the mud, and much more. Blue rain starts to descend, it all starts to pour, and soon enough, the short green grass starts to mend.

__Fall__ The leaves like to fall, right smack on the ground. They turn into a mound, and I jump in them all.