June poems from famous poets and best beautiful poems to feel good. Best june poems ever written. Read all poems about june.
When June comes dancing o'er the death of May,
With scarlet roses tinting her green breast,
And mating thrushes ushering in her day,
And Earth on tiptoe for her golden guest,
Tell you what I like the best --
'Long about knee-deep in June,
'Bout the time strawberries melts
On the vine, -- some afternoon
The Junes were free and full, driving through tiny
Roads, the mudguards brushing the cowparsley,
Through fields of mustard and under boldly embattled
Mays and chestnuts
The blue forest, chilled and blue, like the lips of the dead
if the lips were gone. The year has been cut in half
with dull scissors, the solstice still looking for its square
on the calendar. Perhaps the scissors were really
Your voice, with clear location of June days,
Called me outside the window.You were there,
Light yet composed, as in the just soft stare
Of uncontested summer all things raise
Ten o'clock: the broken moon
Hangs not yet a half hour high,
Yellow as a shield of brass,
A week ago I had a fire
To warm my feet, my hands and face;
Cold winds, that never make a friend,
Crept in and out of every place.
Paula is digging and shaping the loam of a salvia,
Scarlet Chinese talker of summer.
Two petals of crabapple blossom blow fallen in Paula's
Evening, and all the birds
In a chorus of shimmering sound
Are easing their hearts of joy
For miles around.
It was jazzy June and green butterflies, filled the air with magic.
Then butterscotch days were long, until the purple sunset panic.
Sunny June, when music festivals, were staged in shady parks;
See leaf, no brief, no beef to travel far,
see leaf from tree wind whirled once season spent.
Define priorities! No bite need mar
bark strong. Stand steadfast, tall. Face fate's events
A shelf cloud brazenly rolls over,
And doves above quicken for shelter.
Summer arrives with brash and boom.
In the stormy month of June.
June 12, victory of the Ballot over the Bullet.
The people spoke in one voice.
June 12, the day our votes counted.
June 12, mandate conceived, mandate stolen.
____(Style: Romanticism) ____
This is for June n' all th' Summers it brings
So you know how to say
how June says 'gherkins'
in 'A Painter Of Our Time',
John Berger spells it 'jerkuns'.
June yawns and lolls its panting, month-long tongue
along the lakeside park for me
Open school doors flap and slam in the dusty summer wind
as if every organized system in the world
Ledged's rumor puts shame to my name
As the Kingsmen sing it every day
They still get paid it only fades with age
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