When the green is grand and virgin
And the peony is pink
When the sun is warm and golden
Like a gently honeyed drink
And the laughter of the children
Fills the pleasant afternoon
At the thought of school-vacation
Then I think it must be June
When the ribbon of red twilight
Glimmers long against the west
And the farmer’s hope is hungry
As the crop begins to press
When the cheer of flower-gardens
Amplifies its rainbow swoon
I declare within my heart then
That I think it must be June
When the Painter of its pasture
Spills pigment of unnamed sheen
And the palette on His easel
Hold a thousand shades of green
When each meadow is a heaven
And each willow strums a tune
We rejoice to hear creation
Sing the cadences of June
When blue sky vaults its pavilion
Over nature’s surging strain
And tanned bare-feet dance in rhythm
To its summer-glad refrain
When we dream of sandy beaches
And soft sea-song’s sweeping croon
Then we smile in celebration
For we know it must be June
© Janet Martin
This is classic. I like it!
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