Ode to August

When I was younger, I have often wondered Why is the eighth month not called October? Was geometry wrong When it named the octagon, Or was this a mistake wrought by the calendar? 'Augustus' seemed such an ugly name too It sounded like someone who's having the flu Plus, I've always had this pet From a childish pang of regret That my birthstone's colour wasn't blue Oh, would it be that I was born a month late Being a ‘child of autumn’ sounded great Instead, it's been quite a bummer To birthday in the hot summers Though I suppose Mom and Dad just couldn't wait! But, in recent years, I've changed my tune About being born on the eighth moon For there is so much fame Behind this august name My date of birth is now to me a welcome boon For while the man whose name the month honours Might not possess July's fame and splendour He satisfied the Romans' wish To implement an age of peace And so the legacy of his reign is forever revered The strength he lacked he made up in understanding: Rome's Republic despised the designation of a "king" He knew to bide his time And rose the ranks in slow inclines Avoiding his predecessor's death by stabbing! He knew very well that he could not climb alone Delegation was key in his path towards the throne Dealing right to win the race A mastermind masked with modest grace He walks with one foot set upon the gravestone I do not believe that the stars dictate our destiny But there is much to learn from their history And by giving August a retrospect I have grown a profound respect For this beautifully ugly, yet immutable part of me - Originally written 13/12/2024 Rewritten 15/02/2025