June - A Poem

from The Poet's Calendar by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

June

Mine is the month of Roses; yes, and mine
The Month of Marriages!  All pleasant sights
And scents, the fragrance of the blossoming vine,
The foliage of the valleys and the heights,
Mine are the longest days, the loveliest nights;
The mower's scythe makes music to my ear;
I am the mother of all dear delights;
I am the fairest daughter of the year.

~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)

Birch Tree

Cottonwood Tree

Sweet Pea

Chilly, frosty September nights have weakened many plants; a few sweet peas though continue to shine in the heat of the afternoon sun.

Join us, won't you, at Today's Flowers.

As Autumn Approaches

We have had some cool, misty mornings here lately.

September by Hartley Coleridge

The dark, green Summer, with its massive hues,
Fades into Autumn's tincture manifold.
A gorgeous garniture of fire and gold
The high slope of the ferny hill indues.
The mists of morn in slumbering layers diffuse
O'er glimmering rock, smooth lake, and spiked array
Of hedge-row thorns, a unity of grey.
All things appear their tangible form to lose
In ghostly vastness. But anon the gloom
Melts, as the Sun puts off his muddy veil;
And now the birds their twittering songs resume,
All Summer silent in the leafy dale.
In Spring they piped of love on every tree,
But now they sing the song of memory.

~ Hartley Coleridge (1796-1849)

English poet