Pure brilliance and intensity, each brighter than the others.
June is warm, is gold, is free, all precedence abandoned;
The rioting color and glowing hues all seem to burst at random.
It is a time of freedom and of gleeful recklessness;
The telling signs all seem to say; "It's time for happiness!"
July brings heat in sultry waves, with small regard to comfort;
The humid spells dance wickedly, like they're taunting us for sport.
Curiously enough, it seems when summer is upon us,
We heave a sigh and wish for Winter's cruelly frigid solstice.
August seems to come when every self-respecting person
Has grudgingly resigned themselves to Summer's hot oppression;
And is apprehesive at the slightest interference,
Since stagnant heat has ways of inducing bored indifference.
September sneaks up on you in a predatory fashion;
And suddenly you realise that those leisure days are rationed.
The time has come for work and school, so get back on your duty;
And try to stay on top of things; beware! Watch out for beauty!
October seems to emanate an aged, mystic color---
And though it's name eludes us, all will recognize it's aura:
It's power so complete that not a one would dare oppose it.
It feeds off fear and superstition---comprehension nulls it.
November tends to soothe the soul, and smoothes each ruffled feather;
While it's surreptitiously transfiguring the weather.
The air grows cold, the breeze chills deep, and all is grey and dreary;
But we are thankful all together, gathered, warm and cheery.
December heralds snow in diaphanous, gentle driftings;
Covering the earth in pearly crysopheric siftings.
The world is quiet with a brittle, frost-riven stillness;
On the verge of breaking, yet holding...waiting till after Christmas.
...Until the New Year...
