On my way home I met a girl called Winter,
She was crying tears of crushed ice and
was almost frozen in her own coldness,
stood there still as a statue.

On my way home I met a boy called Spring
He was happy and sad, crying but smiling,
skipping but drooped.

On my way home I met a women called Summer,
She was screaming with joy and her eyes which
were as gold as the sun bulged with joy.