As August paints the sky in hues of gold,
The summer’s tale begins to softly fold.
The days grow shorter, whispers fill the air,
A gentle breeze caresses, cool and fair.

The sun dips lower, casting shadows long,
With every dusk, a melancholy song.
Leaves start to turn, a prelude to the fall,
Nature’s canvas, a masterpiece for all.

Nights grow tender under starlit skies,
A hint of autumn in the moon’s soft rise.
Crickets sing their final serenade,
As August bids farewell, no love betrayed.

In every breath, the season’s essence stays,
A fleeting moment, yet it deeply sways.
August whispers secrets to the wind,
An end, a beginning, beautifully twinned.