August

2 Comments

Tags:
  • Reality
  • ,
  • Nature

    August

    August!

    Blackeyed Susans and Queen Anne's Lace
    pepper the hillsides all over the place,
    while Sunflowers raise their arms in the air
    and bow their heads, as if to pray
    that a few drops of rain might be sent their way.

    The corn in the fields is at least 5' high
    and the sun shines brightly
    in the mid-August Sky.

    Sullen children are anxious --
    school bells will soon ring
    and the stores are all crowded
    for school shopping.

    There are notebooks and paper
    and pens to be bought,
    Pencils, erasers and
    more of that rot....

    Clothing and shoes to say
    your kid's got the look
    and don't forget to buy something
    to cover those books.

    Although Mom and Dad
    will be happy they'll be back in school,
    But most of the children will
    think that's not cool.

    Football and Band camp
    will come to an end
    The first game of the season
    is just 'round the bend.

    Poem Comments

    (2)

    Please login or register

    You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
    leave comments/feedback and rate this poem.

    Login or Register

    Lolee commented on August

    09-09-2009

    Well! That sure brings it all back! I was the youngest of seven, and my the bustle. Also...I remember the arguments my parent's would have over school cloths.lol Dad didn't want to buy, and Mom did! Who do you think won? Mom of course! I had four children who are grown and married now, those sure were the days...I'm glad they are over. Great job, my sister. Keep up the good work.

    classictbird59

    09/09/2009

    I am the next to the youngest of 9. Mommy made most of our clothes and Daddy was happy for it... there were a lot of hand me downs too. I have three daughters of my own, who likewise, are all grown... I have three grandsons and only one of them is old enough to want what is cool. I am just surrounded by children... neices & nephews etc. Thank you for your comment. It is greatly appreciated.

    Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    classictbird59’s Poems (26)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    The Cardinal 0
    Chatting with a ghost 1
    Procrastinati
    on
    0
    August 2
    Night Time Symphony 0
    My Sisters And Me 3
    Per-diddle 0
    Haunting Questions 1
    APRIL SHOWERS 0
    Fire On The Foothills 0
    THE MS TITANIC 0
    Panic Attack 0
    The Christmas Watch 0
    September Rain 0
    Queen Anne's Lace 0
    He Lied 1
    Winter Has Arrived 1
    The Kiss 0
    When I was a Younger More Inocent Me 1
    Song for my Love 0
    Shadows 1
    Oh My Love..... 0
    Calm Before the Storm 1
    Surreal 0
    Windchimes 0
    Moments In the Rain 0