TO JUNE
June dreams.
The twilight world’s a-hush,
The meadows flame with colors from a master’s brush,
And in my garden roses droop and blush;
June sleeps and dreams.
The singing wind blows gently through her sleep,
While friendly, fragrant shadows keep
Their vigils, beautiful and deep,
With June, who dreams.
Communion with my watching heart I hold,
Until the day comes to unfold
Her laughing hours, steeped in gold,
For June, who dreams.