You serve exquisite, pleasant views
On luscious summer days of bliss.
I see cerulean and chartreuse
Wherever you have sown a kiss
To chase away my days of blues.
I have been moved to pen your days
Of sultry heat and starry nights.
But though a tome of words I graze,
Not one of them can reach your heights
To climb the chaise and light your fraise.
What words can I recite to you?
As you, O August, are ablaze
Because the sun has loved you too.
And so I hold no sway or ways
For words through poesy to coo.