Nature's Way

The seasons of life aren't fair, unkind
The early bloomers lay dead on the vine
A late coming frost at the end of the season
Lays death to entire bushels, no reason

Within the withered and dead of the roses
Lies still the fresh life of the flower that closes
As if it were trying to save a life's breath
But the winter spares no one who touches his death

But maybe next spring, be weather permitting
They'll have a new chance of their luck acquitting
And blossoms will form, and grow all anew
And frost will be but a memory's hue

But maybe the winter he will sneak back in
And crush the sweet life, mother nature's life thin
Oh then what if hope is all lost for them
And would they cease growing and dying again

I cannot say, for the love of the flower
For the tides of nature spring not from my power
So maybe they'll rise and maybe they'll shrink
For the forces of nature care not what I think.