AUGUST

August is a copper kettle

Filled to the brim with molten sun,

Pouring golden batter slowly

Till its griddlecakes are done.

August is a desert nomad

Traveling through an arid land,

Searching for some small oasis

In an endless stretch of sand.

August is a dreamer's knapsack

Packed with lazy, leisure days,

Strapped to Summer's sturdy shoulders

With the chords time's piper plays.

August, stay a little longer,

Let your heat becalm us all;

There are duties waiting for us

In the workplace of the fall!

-John C. Bonser