A Rhyme for June
Now marshy pools on the road's edge,
Or creeks that slip 'twixt banks of sedge,
With marigolds be set aflare;
And not a corner south or north,
But there a brier-rose breaks forth,
And bees go droning down the air.
The bramble now begins to blow,
The elder-bush puts on its snow,
And birds be sweet till fall of dew;
And when my love and I go out,
So thick the grass grows all about
In truth, it scarce will let us through.
After the Rain
Dripping the hollyhocks beneath the wall
Their fires half quenched, a smouldering red;
A shred of gold upon the grasses tall,
A butterfly is hanging dead.
A sound of trickling waters, like a tune
Set to sweet words; a wind that blows
Wet boughs against a saffron sky; all June
Caught in the breath of one white rose.
~~
Lizette Woodworth Reese (1856-1935)
from A Handful of Lavender, 1891
[Poems are in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]
Lizette Woordworth Reese biography
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