American Poet, Celia Thaxter in her Island Garden on Appledore Island, six miles off he coast of Portsmouth, New Hampshire |
The halcyon days of summer, ti's the end
Of languid days with my dearest friend
The month of August went flying bye
The forest trees awoke I cannot deny
Leaves danced to the baton of the breeze
Orchestrated by the dulcet wind to please
The lazy flowers got up to greet the sun
Even before the sweetest day has begun
Flowers most fragrant in the morning dew
Gather an save them in a potpourri, a few
Loving the colorful wildflowers ever more
They tell me vivid windswept stories I adore
Listen softly, a myriad birds are on the wing
An the woods awake with magical music sing
Yet the halcyon days of summer draw near
It's time, keep treasures in the heart so dear
Vacation time, birthdays, a wedding, too
It was a joyous, busy month, but it flew
For in August the harvest days are borne
Bringing luscious greens and golden corn
But I will not forget August's longing song
My favorite eighth month is where I belong!
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