July
When the scarlet cardinal tells
Her dream to the dragonfly,
And the lazy breeze makes a nest in the trees,
And murmurs a lullaby,
It is July.
When the tangled cobweb pulls
The cornflower's cap awry,
And the lilies tall lean over the wall
To bow to the butterfly,
It is July.
When the heat like a mist veil floats,
And poppies flame in the rye,
And the silver note in the streamlet's throat
Has softened almost to a sigh,
It is July.
When the hours are so still that time
Forgets them, and lets them lie
'Neath petals pink till the night stars wink
At the sunset in the sky,
It is July.
by Susan Hartley Swett
*sigh* I found this

poem in

the 1967 Childcraft The How and Why Library which I believe came with a set of World Book encyclopedias my grandparents bought. As a child, I loved these books, and when we finally gave away the encyclopedias, I could not bear to part with these. I believe it is a set of fifteen volumes. This one is the Poems and Rhymes volume. Don't you love the Old Woman Who Lived in the Shoe illustration? I know just how she feels. Hooray for "vintage" books!
If you'd like to read a blog entry that will take you straight to a summer day at the lake/river, go
here and
Blue Yonder will take you there. Happy July!