January brings the snow,
makes our feet and fingers glow.
February brings the rain,
Thaws the frozen lake again.
March brings breezes loud and shrill,
stirs the dancing daffodil.
April brings the primrose sweet,
......
Fourth of July, how sweet it sounds,
As every year it rolls around.
It brings active joy to boy and man,
This glorious day throughout our land.
We hail this day with joy and pride,
And speak of our forefathers who died;
Who fought for liberty in days of yore,
And drove the British from our shore.
......
From off my calendar today
A leaf I tear;
So swiftly passes smiling May
Without a care.
And now the gentleness of June
Will fleetly fly
And I will greet the glamour moon
Of lush July.
Beloved months so soon to pass,
......
I'm your flag; I'm red, white, and blue;
I'm the symbol of freedom you look up to;
I've been here more than two-hundred-twenty years;
Through good times, and hard times; through laughter and tears;
Through battles and wars - I know the count;
To lay on coffins - I remember the exact amount;
There have been so many who believe in me;
They gave up their lives for their belief in liberty;
They didn't ask, "What's in it for me?";
They just went and did what had to be;
......
I have never been fishing on the Susquehanna
or on any river for that matter
to be perfectly honest.
Not in July or any month
have I had the pleasure -- if it is a pleasure --
of fishing on the Susquehanna.
I am more likely to be found
in a quiet room like this one --
......
On posts of gaunt and naked bamboo
spread forth the green banner
beyond the scorched hills.
Let it flutter loosely
across the blue sky.
The sun is a witness today.
Within this hiatus of sun-witness
......
Empyrean drops,
Monument of July,
The pluvial chapter of life...
O July of enfeebled yolk,
Dispenser of splendour of sempervirence,
God has watered your tongue.
Therefore, pour, July, pour
The essence of life,
The grit of living
......
watching fireworks through the skylight
i feel pretty tonight
sprinkles on the ceiling
always lick off the frosting
dizzying silliness
accompanying unadulterated bliss
why can’t life always feel like this
This is the place that I love the best,
A little brown house, like a ground-bird's nest,
Hid among grasses, and vines, and trees,
Summer retreat of the birds and bees.
The tenderest light that ever was seen
Sifts through the vine-made window screen--
Sifts and quivers, and flits and falls
On home-made carpets and gray-hung walls.
......
We must not force events, but rather make
The heart soil ready for their coming, as
The earth spreads carpets for the feet of Spring,
Or, with the strengthening tonic of the frost,
Prepares for Winter. Should a July noon
Burst suddenly upon a frozen world
Small joy would follow, even tho' that world
Were longing for the Summer. Should the sting
Of sharp December pierce the heart of June,
What death and devastation would ensue!
......