A Muse: The Locust and the Ant

Now the Locust played about
The comely sunny Summer, he minded not

The Ant gathers leaves, grains and nuts
For the clouds slowly but steadily go South

The Snow Queen and all hue turn bright,
All the land then become immaculately white

No more grain, no more fun, no tall and sweet green grass to hide in
But the stores of the Ant stay, for he the signs of Winter had seen

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