Mensual Gazebo Of Schmaltz Poem by Enchanting Owl

New beginnings, new journeys, new equations.
January is the first of many celebrations.
As February flashes by at the speed of light,
preparing for Lovestruck and falling in love with a wight.

Willow is designed to weep and peep in March.
It signifies sanguineness and myth—it's a parch.
April gives fruit to a leader who is fearless.
A kind with heart, vision, and foresight—ending the arched parlous.

May's poetry. June's prose. Both are clivity.
Poetry is the blood that sustains creativity.
Prose is the water that flows into gold realism.
Both are set and needed to awaken visual surrealism.

July cements the ground for apostleship.
As days stretch longer than usual, it can't be skipped.
August's loyal and slips away like an old wine.
A dive into the sea, a good sip in the summer sunshine.

The start of Yuletide, snowmen, and reindeers,
September is a divine time to please the daintier.
Fireplaces, falling leaves—signs of October.
To ease and mute the gem of a talker that needs a prober.

Celebration of the ghost and the living,
November's hymn is a song and hugs to the missing.
December is the concluding page of the book.
The birth of Christ and priming for the New Year—a festive nook.