They gave us all a calendar
At work this afternoon.
Suddenly it dawns on me,
The year is ending soon!
Comes January, cold and gray.
The new year's just beginning.
And February, short and bright
With Valentine hearts winning.
Comes March, the windy roaring one
And warm the sun of spring.
Then April, bright of shining sky
And flowers blossoming.
Comes May, and school comes to a close
With children's happy laughter.
Then June, with open city pools
And picnics soon thereafter.
July comes booming with a bang
Of red-glared rockets blasting.
Then August lingers with its heat
That seems so...everlasting.
September, gold September comes.
The year is growing older.
October with sweet Halloween.
The nights grow dark and colder.
November smells of harvest,
Of turkey and Thanksgiving.
December comes with joy and light
To fill hearts of the living.
Each page I flip and see these things
Of days yet to come.
My calendar is a door to me,
An adventure just begun!
Poem About The Months Of The Year
Seasons Yet To Come
©
Rick W. Cotton
more by Rick W. Cotton
Published by Family Friend Poems November 2017 with permission of the Author.
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ABOUT THE POET:
Rick is often staring out the window at the color of the leaves, or the clouds, or the blue of the sky. He's a hopeless romantic, loves old movies and music, and special times. He cannot abide rap, liver and onions, reality TV, and shopping malls. Rick has a lovely wife, a fat cat, and a taste for BBQ.
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