The calendar’s gentle rhythm unfolds, As thirty or thirty-one days are told, In months that march with purpose and might, Each one a chapter, a story to excite.
January’s thirty-one days begin the quest, A fresh start unfolding, a new year’s nest, The winter’s chill gives way to promise and light, As the earth awakens, and all’s made right.
February’s twenty-eight, or twenty-nine in leap, A shorter span, yet love and joy do creep, The heart’s aflame, as Valentine’s Day shines bright, A celebration of love, a beacon in the night.
March arrives with thirty-one, a windy roar, As winter’s grip loosens, and spring’s door, Creaks open wide, to let the sunshine in, And with it, hope, and new beginnings to win.
April’s thirty, a transitional time, As spring’s sweet showers bring May’s blooms in line, The earthy scent, the vibrant hues on display, A colorful tapestry, in a joyous, dazzling way.
May’s thirty-one, a month of growth and Might, As warmth and light, banish the lingering night, The world awakens, and all around, new life, Sprouts, blossoms, and flourishes, without strife.
June’s thirty, a summer’s welcome gate, A season of adventure, of freedom to create, The sun shines bright, the days stretch long and wide, A time for exploration, for hearts full of pride.
July’s thirty-one, a month of warmth and gold, A peak of summer, when memories unfold, Fireworks light the sky, on Independence Day, A celebration of freedom, in a joyous, jubilant way.
August’s thirty-one, a month of abundance and might, A time of harvest, when the earth’s treasures take flight, The sun-kissed fields, the ripe fruits, and the grain, A season of gratitude, for the earth’s rich gain.
September’s thirty, a transition once more, As summer’s warmth, gives way to autumn’s score, The leaves turn golden, the air crisp, and cool, A time for reflection, for hearts that rule.
October’s thirty-one, a month of mystery and fright, A time for spooky tales, and Halloween’s delight, The pumpkins glow, the costumes shine, the fun, A celebration of imagination, for everyone.
November’s thirty, a month of thanks and praise, A time for reflection, on life’s joys, and its ways, The turkey’s roasted, the family gathers near, A celebration of love, and the year’s final cheer.
December’s thirty-one, a month of joy and giving, A time for love, for kindness, and for living, The festive lights, the carols, the tree, A celebration of hope, and a new year’s spree.
Thus the calendar’s rhythm, a story does tell, Of months that march, with purpose, and a tale to compel, Each one unique, yet part of a greater whole, A dance of days, a poem, that’s forever in our soul.
