August

I've never considered myself a poet, this is a lame attempt, really :P But still, let me know what you think!

 

August is always the lonely month

Of empty promises, dry gusts

That sweep the hillsides, flowers and rush

To remind us that this is the end of summer…. There’s things we must

Be off accomplishing.  Come now, hush

And don’t cry about the inevitable dusk

Of a season, the pleasant season of lust…

Where warm heat draws us to the water’s lush

Cool surface, and late evenings bask upon campfire’s brush

And dried cinders yearning us, calling us, telling us that much

Of our desires and dreams are only waiting to awake inside of us…

That the end of a season is the start of another, so there’s no room to fuss.

Only room to prepare for a new season of opportunity to push

Onto us, at the start of this lonely, dreary month.

Reviews

[*~Poetic_Essence~*]

I really like the flow of this piece..it made it easy to read because of the hidden rhyming words..
"August is always the lonely month
Of empty promises,"