Wednesday, June 26, 2013

June


Butterflies drifting across it,
Bees that go humming by,
The rose belongs to a June day
In gardens that smile at the sky...


Swaying to summer's music
On its gracefully slender stem,
It wears in a queenly manner
A dew-spangled diadem...


Folded within its soft petals, 
Lie dreams that are long unfilled;
Heartbreak, dear memories and rapture,
Along with its perfume are spilled. ~Ada B. Childs




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