August
August
A time of harvest, crops to reap,
And Summer dreams within to keep,
A shortening of sun-kissed rays,
In these, our hallowed August days.
All memory is here to hold,
Before the year grows dark and cold,
Just keep them close and give great praise,
For these, our hallowed August days.
A time for nature to prepare,
Before the leaves of forests bare,
To cast its seed, in many ways,
In these, our hallowed August days.
As longer nights begin to call,
When lesser times beset us all,
Don’t let the pessimist erase,
All these – our hallowed August days.
Mick.
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