I love to see the summer beaming forth
And white wool sack clouds sailing to the north
I love to see the wild flowers come again
And mare blobs stain with gold the meadow drain
And water lilies whiten on the floods
Where reed clumps rustle like a wind shook wood
Where from her hiding place the Moor Hen pushes
And seeks her flag nest floating in bull rushes
I like the willow leaning half way o’er
The clear deep lake to stand upon its shore
I love the hay grass when the flower head swings
To summer winds and insects happy wings
That sport about the meadow the bright day
And see bright beetles in the clear lake play
- John Clare (1793-1864)
The festival of Fors Fortuna, Ukon juhla, Sommersonnenwende, Klidonas, Enyovden, Kresna noč, Sankthansaften, Drăgaica, Midsommar, Lithe, Midsummer Day - whatever you call it, it's the Summer Solstice, the longest day.
It's all downhill from here, dear reader...
That time of year again, with a whiff of insect repellent, and ghosted skin of factor 50.
ReplyDeleteSx
You obviously love sunshine, Ms Scarlet. Don't worry, in a few months the mud and the murk will be back, and you can be happy again... Jx
DeleteMidsummer caught me unawares this year - I thought I had another day before the long slide to winter.
ReplyDeleteI usually think of it as being 21 June, but Mr Google says otherwise... Jx
DeleteLet's enjoy it while we have it.
ReplyDeleteLovely poem but to many insects.
Yes, these poets never mention antihistamines, do they? 😂 Jx
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