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Poem

September gone, October here, November in our sights.
Fall magic floats all around in orange and brown highlights.
Prancing sunlight sprinkled on leaves of gold soon delights.
September gone, October here, November in our sights.
 
December now, January around the corner. Valentines next.
Christmas, Hanukah, Kwanza, then frost and sleet, up to our necks.
Red and green, twinkle lights, evergreens covered with in snowy flecks.
Warming up with hot chocolate, cuddled close in plaid pajama checks.
 
March and April, spring delight, and May, the end of school by June two.
In twenty-four-hours we have forgotten every sort of rule
It is summer vacation, and we are ready to spread our wings and fly.
Toward the sun, fully enjoying every second of June and July.
 
August is so unique, she deserves a stanza of her very own,
For without her, we would not be able to write any kind of poem.
Teachers and schools, new backpacks, teachers, and potential friends.
August starts out so fresh and smart, but that rather quickly ends.
 
Every season is special in his or her own special glorious way.
Enjoy each one, for none of us know if we will have one more day.
But one thing is for sure, and you can set your clock by it.
With the right attitude and optimism, they can each be a riot.

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