Sweet, Sweet July Song (or Summer)

I began this poem on the last day of Juneeach stanza beginning with 'Sweet Summer'but, the door closed on June beforeI had a chance to completely corral verve into verseso, instead there was born a sweet July songwith some June-strains woven through it...a sit-back-and-savour summer-weekend siestakind of song! Happy First Weekend of July 2025! Sweet July/summer sweeps through living’s roomsIn whispers of wisteria plumes... In bright bursts of myriad bloomsSo lovely to behold... She tap-dances in drops of rain... And splashes puddles on the lane... And waves a wand through fields of grainTransforming green... ... to gold Sweet July sighs in grassy bars... And spills to window-sills in jarsFilled with pleasure unfurled... She glories in sun-beaming kissGrins in lip-smacking berry-bliss... Sweet July, sets cerulean skiesAbove a glimpse of Paradise... From arbours red with rose... Sweet July spills a patchwork quiltAcross landscapes, Sweet July sings in welkin brooksShe steals the dreamer's picture booksContentment feasts on glorious nooksOf Glad Reality Like cornfields flushed with robust stalks Like the delight of twilight walksWith carefree company ... Sweet July sweeps through living’s roomsIn whispers of wisteria plumesIn bright bursts of myriad bloomsSo lovely to beholdShe tap-dances in drops of rainAnd splashes shadows on the laneAnd waves a wand through fields of grainTransforming green to gold Sweet July sighs in grassy barsShe dazzles pastures with dew-starsAnd spills to window-sills in jarsFilled with pleasure unfurledShe glories in sun-beaming kissGrins in lip-smacking berry-blissWhilst comforting what is amissIn this broken-down world Sweet July smiles to you and meFrom isles where wells of ink flow freeWith one-of-a-kind poetryOnly God can composeFrom wisp ‘o willow serenadeFrom cool, beckoning pools of shadeFrom hues prominently displayedFrom arbours red with rose Sweet July sways in leafy limbsAnd plays a plethora of hymnsFor July is a fount that brimsWith perfect, purest praiseFrom oriole, song-sparrow, lark From fireflies, dazzling the darkFrom children laughing at the parkHappy for summer days Sweet July, sets cerulean skiesAbove a glimpse of ParadiseShe spreads picnics for butterfliesAnd busy/buzzy honey-beesShe strews ballrooms where bare feet dashThrough childhood's fleeting spark and splashWhile we, with echo's dust and ashForge precious memories Sweet July sings in welkin brooksShe steals the dreamer's picture booksContentment feasts on glorious nooksOf Glad Reality Like the friendship of hollyhocksLike cornfields flushed with robust stalks  Like the delight of twilight walksWith carefree company  Sweet July spills a patchwork quiltAcross landscapes, wildflower-giltWonder erects a temple, builtFor worship's awed esteem The seed begins to burst with fruitThrilling the gardener with loot;Onions, peas, carrots and beet-rootHeaven-on-earth cuisine Sweet July slips through afternoonsAn invisible minstrel, she croonsAgeless, page-less green ballad-tunesStrummed on ten-thousand  stringsShe overflows the heart with joysAnd meadow-pond with laughing boysThe Belle of Summertime deploysHappiness fit for kings Sweet July bids us walk by sightAnd taste her fare of pure delightAnd satisfy Want’s appetiteWith slow and steamy hoursWhere no one can afford to makeLess than the most of give and takeWhere every day is like a cakeDecorated with flowers ...and dusk is like a getawayFrom Duty's Musts of middle-dayWhere gardens are a place to prayAnd thank-God for JulyFor fields where farmers reap its holdFor Masterpieces, manifold As His handiwork is extolled From land and sea and sky Janet Martin The seed begins to burst with fruit Thrilling the gardener with loot; Onions, peas, carrots and beet-root... Heaven-on-earth cuisine... ...and dusk is like a getawayFrom Duty's Musts of middle-day Where gardens are a place to prayAnd thank-God for July...