When June comes we look for the sunshine,
Compelling summer fare across the landscape,
Characters of heroic stories comes to vivid mind
Mythical people the drawn shades of light invade.
The blind blaze of the sun alters when it charms
At the end of June when forked light glows dim,
And bend the erase time that is never taken in arms
As the darker nights of quirkiness gently enters in.
The gloaming sense of intensity of nature cycles
Fixed its mark on the brief hours dying by the night
Frolics of the crisp sky change into deeper colours,
And August no longer shines as bright like meteorite.
But this lambency gives us a foretaste of the sublime
we wish we could save this month for a longer time.
Topic(s) of this poem: seasons
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.