Here is a poem that my eight year old daughter wrote...
Seasons
Swiftly goes summer,
Soon it will be winter.
If we see the birds fly south,
Our breath will fly from our mouths.
Though it is a while 'till spring,
We still will joyfully sing.
Because fall is very close,
We get our fall clothes.
Even though it is cold,
The sun is as bright as gold.
