January brings an icy jaundice
that infects the land and yellows it;
then bandages it in wintry white
of a \'cotton\' made of snow drifts.
February finishes what months before hath wrought;
All the grayed earth reduced to silence
and to reflection, and to thought
entranced in cold compliance
March makes for springtime,
promising some warmth
transforms snowbanks into riverbanks,
thaws out the agrarians\' farms
April initiates the rains
so powerful and purposeful
washing all in cloudy stain
to turn all sunlight null
May begins all botany
with rain to give it birth
shall sing the florists\' litany-
\'to live and love thy Earth\'
June enlightens with its summer evenings
milky dish of moon simmers high above;
and the trysting trees of forests green
will give refuge to romantics in love
July brandishes its sear-blue skies
but its dusk sun is the purest gold;
and the nightfall a lurid lilac sigh-
the stars number a million-fold.
August burns to brackish crimson
dog days to talk and to tell
to each other atop the escarpment\'s run,
the strange stories we will sell
September glowers slowly, as summer drips to dregs
back to books and scholarly pursuits
as the north wind gets back on its legs
the leaves will wither quietly, the demise then of their youth
October welcomes orange and red
to paint an autumn panorama
the orchards with their apples fed
speckled songbirds like the thrush
November remembers the winter to come,
hot cooking to line the window sills;
first snow to descend upon the home
the frozen front that will finesse the hills
December will elate the soul
the hearth glimmering rosy fire;
festive food to fill the bowls
and a happiness un-bemired.