Spring time, summer time, nature's joy.
Hang on, hold on, Atlas' grip.
Treasure the moments before it's coy.
Lest the juice run dry before a sip,
and the cruel track of time finish its race,
enjoy the times when conjoined at hip.
Blaze the trail at a blistering pace,
let nothing stop you, no time for breaks,
enjoy the scenery and that lovely face.
Don't be consumed with what's real, what's fake,
savor the moment, leave it up to fate,
because spring time is just a plan half baked.
Autumn is coming; summer's just a ploy,
so treasure the moments before it's coy.