War of Months...

Long long time ago, came the twelve months together

and promised to form a year, to live under the same banner

Some had odd no of days and some were happy to be even

They shared different seasons under the same skies and heaven

Pain or pleasure come what may

would be distributed in equal say

With time the months of odd

grew odds with months of even

Because of the extra day they thought they had

they thought they had to endure pain more bad

They formed a group headed by the July

a month of rains they thought could rely

Evens had no choice but to choose the June

a month of summers they thought was more attune

In an open meadow one fine sunny day

they met under a tree with swords drawn and made of clay

June tried to reason with July

We are all the same, parts of same tribe

You think you have an extra day of pain

but for us evens its same pain compressed in 30 days

We feel more fraction of pain everyday

the same which you feel in 31 days

But July wouldn't listen.

Months of odd made fun and ridiculed

the months with less than 31 days

July found an August company who came handy

with a chocolate cake and candy

Accused June and ones with 30 days

of playing a difficult game and eating ruffles lays

The months of even stunned and amazed

This turnaround befuddled them and left them in haze

Months of even reminded the odds of times they had

that each month followed the others no matter how bad

But months of odd laughed and said it was all in good sense

and so they went different ways beyond times fence

A year got split in the two

February was lonely as it was at times even and at times odd

so the evens took it under their umbrella broad

thus now we have months without Junes summer breeze

without July's cloudy skies

Without Decembers cold winters

And without April's springy surprise

Evens looked, shook their head and went on

Looked back couple of times

and saw months of odd in celebrations

happy in the clan of extra days they dined in their mansions

Then after a time long gone by

times that paled those sunny skies

the months of odd talked once again but of being slain

of fading echoes and ankles with sprain

Standing with new company, they muttered about autumn frost

It was a choice involving more than a stamps cost

If only they could see what others had to sustain

They would have not killed the very dreams

they had promised to nurture and maintain

and the year would still be together

but saying all this is just is vain

a year, a month are just another piece of a long chain

Seasons of spring, winter, autumn and summer

will return and bare earth will touch the feel of rain again