Frost grows like a mold,

But a beautiful, milky white,

I remain snuggled in my coat, sweater,

Combating January’s chill,

Its dark, pessimistic cold.

In February, it’s still quite chilling,

Yet a surge of love electrifies hearts,

Reminding me romance has yet to wake me-

But I still enjoy it with others I adore,

While honoring my determined race.

Now, march comes trooping in,

The sun greets this side of earth again,

I ground myself as nature’s life returns,

As I snuggle myself in a protective green,

And whisper, “Greetings again, spring.”

April showers me with its presence,

Preparing me for May’s vibrant flowers,

The pastel colors of Easter eggs glow,

Waiting for a bunny to tresspass my land,

As spring blooms my happiness more.

May flowers are always as I nice as I recall,

But the atmosphere’s heat increases,

The clouds clear, and I’m able to swim,

Float without the weight of school’s stress,

Tread in a wet, chemical-filled galaxy.

As spring retreats, June returns,

Along with the elated crowd of summer,

The month high-fives me for being queer,

And trips to the ocean flow like waves,

While l enjoy the weather before it burns.

It burns now, since it’s July-

As blazing as fire that won’t extinguish,

But, with a fan, I enjoy the heat,

Life rewarding me with the sight of a day,

A beautiful, special time, my birthday.

When August arrives, I prepare for autumn,

Ironically, as the swelter remains,

The stress of school nags again like bugs,

Yet I keep a graceful facade,

As summer goes on its merry way.

September is here,

Bringing my favorite season like a gift,

Pumpkin spice is my go-to pleasure

Apple cider runs in my veins,

While it reeks of atmosphere, cinnamon and fallen leaves.

Then arrives October,

And I long to fall in love;

Spooks warm me like pumpkin pie,

The crisp air embracing me,

As I crown it my most adored.

‘November Has Come’ plays in my mind,

The holidays on the brink of beginning,

I mourn the Native American’s losses,

But try to relish the crisp air,

Before it dwindles to dead again.

December is the caboose of the year,

Giving everyone merriment, stress,

Forgetting about the darkness of the days;

When it all passes, I recall this year,

A lively time, a beautiful year.

(I was really bored)