Poems
excerpt from the book...WHAT MAKES THE SUMMER?It is not the lark's clear toneCleaving the morning air with a soaring cry,Nor the nightingale's dulcet melody all the balmy night--Not these aloneMake the sweet sounds of summer;But the drone of beetle and bee, the murmurous hum of the flyAnd the chirp of the cricket hidden out of sight--These help to make the summer.Not roses redly blown,Nor golden lilies, lighting the dusky meads,Nor proud imperial pansies, nor queen-cups quaint and rare--Not these aloneMake the sweet sights of summerBut the countless forest leaves, the myriad wayside weedsAnd slender grasses, springing up everywhere--These help to make the summer.
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