MY Ode To
The Eighth Month
Those
first weeks of August,
Earth
holds them quite dear;
Soft
winds trace the meadows,
The sun’s
chandelier
Stares
down trodden pathways
Where
sand-castles veer…
New
sunflower seedlings;
Through
rain, hearken cheer;
Cool
drops splash pale petals,
Bright
rays wipe things clear…
Blue
waves gather seashells
As
seagulls shed tears;
No matter
the mind trap,
The road’s
always here…
If skies
fade to russet
Once
autumn looms near,
We’ll
simply light candles
And toast
one more year !!
Poem written by L.P.-G. / 2026
No comments:
Post a Comment