June
June should be hot and when it is not
It’s a great disappointment to all,
To the gardener alone will wet weather atone
For the cold and relentless rainfall.
And even to him the outlook is grim
When the gale and the hail destroy all.
But the skies are stupendous, the clouds are tremendous
In indigo, lilac and white,
With cumulus high piled up in the sky
Resplendent with edge bathed in light
(or uniform grey for day after day
Reflecting out spirit’s sad plight)
But hope springs eternal, the sun is diurnal –
Perhaps she will shine the next day.
The weather will swing
And the birds again sing
All will be well as the flower buds swell
And cricket continue its play.
(or perhaps I should say tennis?)
No comments:
Post a Comment