The fortune of June's fount flows free
As plush rush ravishes the tree
And startles pouting infidels
With gardens spouting flower-bells
June sprouts the gracious proof of God
From wonderlands of seed-stoked sod
And prods us to curtsies and bows
That only sheen of green can rouse
June probes the bearded irises
(God always keeps His promises)
Where peony, delphinium, rose
Small glimpses of His face expose
He makes us laugh for the sheer joy
Of sun-frocked girl and barefoot boy
And lures us to the sun-kissed glade
Or to deep pools of maple-shade
June cheers us where the brook-song brims
And every bud is filled with hymns
They burst through dust's sin-cursed veneer
To waken worship's humble tear
June bids us take a longer look
At grand-scapes, not of picture book
And fills the hunger of our gaze
With nature’s bloom-groaning buffets
...and authors praise, so old yet new
For earth so green, heaven so blue
For He who tunes the stratosphere
That always brings us June, my dear
© Janet Martin
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Thank-you for stopping by my porch! I hope you were blessed!