Dew

Not yet August,

Bet that’s what August mom was thinking,

Not yet August!

Maybe his wife too!

Ancient Rome once was young,

August was a title,

An award,

Trumps gold star,

FaceBook ‘s award that now appears like a candy ring,

Not on FaceBook for candy ass awards,

There to communicate with my writing community,

When August was an award,

It was a nothing viney thing wore like a cap,

The August was awarded to warrior,

Early if you will medal’s of honor,

Not yet August the dew is on the meadow,

The dew is on my yard,

Never cotton to the word lawn,

Its nearly eight am Iowa time,

If I attempted to mow the small but I want this morn,

My feet world be swimming,

The blades world rust,

I’d be screwed,

So off to the kitchen I go,

To cook my August,

In two hours I will dredge back out to my field ergo my strip of lawn,

And mow a bit,

When will institutions snd ex dictators like trump figure out award systems are personal,

Don’t demene(make adults less),

If we patron your site the second time its because we liked you,

No badge needed,

Keep your gold stars,

Your August awards,

Dew on the grass in great quanity,

Denoits change,

One season closing,

Door shutting,

My award this morning is toast and a hot bowl of malto meal,