It must be the first, like the light;
Sunny rising summer, all so bright.
The height of the moods pick its reign
When the temperament is sanguine.
The confidence predominates over all,
Its bloodied florid hopelessness stands tall.
Then in that order sets in depreciation;
With bare windy Autumn’s desperation.
A sluggish retrogressive mood, so apathetic;
Displays the temperament as phlegmatic.
The unexcitable disposition throws up its palms;
Receive unemotional bleakness that never calms.
With the mood at its least hopeful state,
Gloomy winter’s horizons hide living fate.
The sad presentation of it is so symbolic,
Revealing a temperament so melancholic.
Its mournful dejected air doesn’t let out
That around the corner linger what its about.
Its about life going on, resurfacing yet again;
Like spring returns to mellow out the pain.
The tasty fruits of a weather so irascible,
Its passionate choleric temperament is unstable.
Speaks volumes of man being never mature
And how he resembles the seasons in nature.
The poet in the poem