Summer Iris



summer again -
friends of two colors
side by side

Upon those who love
ungenerous time
bestows
a thousand summers.

Caroline Bennett



Octopus traps -
summer’s moonspun dreams,
soon ended.

Basho

(Yosa Buson)


How pleasant it is for me
to cross over the summer brook
with sandals in my hand.


( haiku translated by sigmats)




Dear Sue, I had to borrow this image from your reply; it is perfect.

Two doves upon the selfsame branch,
Two lilies on a single stem,
Two butterflies upon one flower :--
O happy we who look on them.

Who look upon them hand in hand
Flushed in the rosy summer light ;
Who look upon them hand in hand
And never give a thought to night.

Christina Rossetti

Late summer on the river the sun and wind are mild

the little birds below the eaves are grown

sun-drenched butterflies dance among the flowers

newly spun spider webs brighten every room

threadbare curtains invite the moon’s reflection

a pillow made of clay echoes with the current

my long-graying temples recall the frost and snow

let me pass this life chopping wood and fishing


Chang Feng
1052-1112

This is not a poem, but a quote from Alexandre Dumas "The Count of Monte Cristo"


A Summer Ball.

The same day during the interview between Madame Danglars and the procureur, a travelling-carriage entered the Rue du Helder, passed through the gateway of No. 27, and stopped in the yard. In a moment the door was opened, and Madame de Morcerf alighted, leaning on her son's arm. Albert soon left her, ordered his horses, and having arranged his toilet, drove to the Champs Elysees, to the house of Monte Cristo. The count received him with his habitual smile. It was a strange thing that no one ever appeared to advance a step in that man's favor. Those who would, as it were, force a passage to his heart, found an impassable barrier. Morcerf, who ran towards him with open arms, was chilled as he drew near, in spite of the friendly smile, and simply held out his hand. Monte Cristo shook it coldly, according to his invariable practice. "Here I am, dear count."

"Welcome home again."

Summer Storm


Author: Poetry of Sarah Teasdale


The panther wind
Leaps out of the night,
The snake of lightning
Is twisting and white,
The lion of thunder
Roars -- and we
Sit still and content
Under a tree --
We have met fate together
And love and pain,
Why should we fear
The wrath of the rain!

To see the Summer Sky
Is Poetry, though never in a Book it lie -
True Poems flee.

~Emily Dickinson

Then followed that beautiful season... Summer....
Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape
Lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood.

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow



Robert Harris

In June, as many as a dozen species may burst their buds on a single day. No man can heed all of these anniversaries; no man can ignore all of them.

~Aldo Leopold

Summer is here and lavender is blooming again.
Enjoy the lovely scent.




"There’s flowers for you;
Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram;
The marigold, that goes to bed wi’ the sun,
And with him rises weeping; thes are flower
Of middle summer, and I thek they are given
To men of middle age." William Shakespeare The Winter’s Tale

‘best among the good plants for hot, sandy soils
are the ever blessed lavender and rosemary,
delicious old garden bushes that one can hardly dissociate."

Miss Jekyll
Home and Garden 1900

My lilies are all in bloom as well.

Poem lyrics of The Lily by William Blake.

The modest Rose puts forth a thorn,
The humble sheep a threat'ning horn:
While the Lily white shall in love delight,
Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright.




J. Carbonetti

My lilies are also all blooming at the moment.
Thank you Sue.



Love-Lily


Between the hands, between the brows,
Between the lips of Love-Lily,
A spirit is born whose birth endows
My blood with fire to burn through me;
Who breathes upon my gazing eyes,
Who laughs and murmurs in mine ear,
At whose least touch my colour flies,
And whom my life grows faint to hear.
Within the voice, within the heart,
Within the mind of Love-Lily,
A spirit is born who lifts apart
His tremulous wings and looks at me;
Who on my mouth his finger lays,
And shows, while whispering lutes confer,
That Eden of Love's watered ways
Whose winds and spirits worship her.

Brows, hands, and lips, heart, mind, and voice,
Kisses and words of Love-Lily,--
Oh! bid me with your joy rejoice
Till riotous longing rest in me!
Ah! let not hope be still distraught,
But find in her its gracious goal,
Whose speech Truth knows not from her thought
Nor Love her body from her soul.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Artist: John Singer Sargent


Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose
after John Singer Sargent

Eden could have been like this: two girls,

awake with wonder

glowing in their hands,

the carnations listening to the swish-swish-sway

of fabric in the breeze; nothing else

touches them here.


But someday the lanterns will hang from a veranda,

and even the roses will have lost

all memory of the earlier garden.

Years after tonight, the lily’s pollen

will be found, sprinkled

in the ruffles of a yellowed linen dress.

--- Sarah Binns

Water Lily
by Rainer Maria Rilke


My whole life is mine, but whoever says so
will deprive me, for it is infinite.
The ripple of water, the shade of the sky
are mine; it is still the same, my life.

No desire opens me: I am full,
I never close myself with refusal-
in the rythm of my daily soul
I do not desire-I am moved;

by being moved I exert my empire,
making the dreams of night real:
into my body at the bottom of the water
I attract the beyonds of mirrors...