Below is the poem entitled The months of the year which was written by poet
Amoh. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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Papa Kofi Amoh
A dozen siblings we are in number.
One by one we come and go to slumber.
To hold your feasts,festivals,anniversaries,.. as a reminder;
That's why you cannot do without a calender.
Siblings we know we are to the core.
Yet we've never seen each other before.
Since the very past we've always been in groups of four;
And in some parts of our world, in two halves for a reason.
All because each of us has a favorite respective season.
To us a second is just like a cell;our basic unit of life.
When we are together, our lucky numbers are 366 or 365.
Four of us age 30; like a middle aged man.
Seven of us are older just by one.
The second of us rather the youngest,
From 28 he leaps to 29, and then reverses like a protest.
The 12th Child cannot miss Christmas.
The 4th Child cannot miss fools' day when people are spun around like discuss.
Just take a smart look at your MOUTH and then,
Summersult the middle to an N.
Yes! 12 we were and 12 we are..
For 12 shall we be fore ever..