The cicadas hummed their sleepy tune as August drifted toward the moon.
The days grew shorter,
Nights more cool,
Whispering softly,
It's time for school.
Bare feet splashed through creeks and streams,
Hearts wide open chasing dreams.
The laughter echoed warm and free,
Like wind that danced through every tree.
Long afternoons and starry skies,
Drifting clouds and fireflies.
But seasons turn,
As seasons do,
They bring us endings bright and true.
For every story has a page,
And each new one begins with change.
Now evening falls a little fast,
The shadows longer,
Summer passed.
Crickets play their steady song,
Guiding children gently along.
Backpacks waiting by the door,
Fresh notebooks,
Pencils,
Shoes,
And more.
Crisp paper smooth,
The pages bare,
Inviting thoughts and dreams to share.
The morning bells will soon ring clear,
A sign that learning time is here.
But learning's not just math and art,
It blooms from deep within the heart.
The playground holds its joyful song,
Where friendships build and grow strong.
The classroom walls,
Both kind and wide,
Keep stories,
Questions,
And thoughts inside.
For endings bend to make new starts,
And school awakens eager hearts.
The last firefly drifts through the air,
Glowing soft without a care.
It lingers low,
Then fades from view,
Yet leaves behind a spark brand new.
Summer's glow does not depart,
It lives within each beating heart.
Every laugh,
Each sunny day,
Becomes a light to guide the way.
So when the mornings feel more cold,
And autumn paints the trees with reds and gold.
Remember summer's gentle song,
It stays within us all year long.
Step into school with steady feet,
Where every ending feels complete.
For every season,
Every turn brings something more for us to learn.
