Great is the sun, and wide he goes
Through empty heaven with repose;
And in the blue and glowing days
More thick than rain he showers his rays.
Though closer still the blinds we pull
To keep the shady parlour cool,
Yet he will find a chink or two
To slip his golden fingers through.
......
All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful,
The Lord God made them all.
Each little flower that opens,
Each little bird that sings,
He made their glowing colours,
He made their tiny wings.
......
They paddle with staccato feet
In powder-pools of sunlight,
Small blue busybodies
Strutting like fat gentlemen
With hands clasped
Under their swallowtail coats;
And, as they stump about,
Their heads like tiny hammers
Tap at imaginary nails
In non-existent walls.
......
I love to rise in a summer morn
When the birds sing on every tree;
The distant huntsman winds his horn,
And the skylark sings with me.
O! what sweet company!
But to go to school on a summer morn,
O! it drives all joy away;
Under a cruel eye outworn,
The little ones spend the day
......
THE wild bee reels from bough to bough
With his furry coat and his gauzy wing.
Now in a lily-cup, and now
Setting a jacinth bell a-swing,
In his wandering;
Sit closer love: it was here I trow
I made that vow,
Swore that two lives should be like one
As long as the sea-gull loved the sea,
......
Flowery paths wildly intersect rich, late summer;
While beautiful flute music plays in green trees,
Amidst song so rife, without drumrolls of thunder.
In butterscotch ease, drift humming, honeybees.
While beautiful flute music plays in green trees;
The exotic blooms send pleasant fumes, far away.
In butterscotch ease, drift humming, honeybees;
With huge, tossed hibiscuses, in crimson disarray.
......
peach is on the rose
since orange sun shines so bright
earth's bathed in warm light
redbirds are singing
of yellow saffron summer
near garden stunners
sapphires in the sky
vagrant clouds have gone missing
......
I recount the nights of faint, distant glows —
the dimmed party lights of summer —
of silenced streaks of fleeing light, tassels of clouds
adorned in fleeting whites,
on the broad balcony of the west, when the
incidents on the large vestibule of the sun sum up
their lives and times on seasons’ palimpsests.
The wild party closes by the stretch of the twenty-first hour.
Darkness, frightened, creeps in with the stealth of a departing thief,
the coyness and diffidence of an undocumented harlot.
......
Beneath the rays of the unmerciful sun
July sang its old drowsy tune,
Even the birds made no move to shun,
As they stood mesmerized by the croon.
In that hush of a golden disc,
I surrendered to stillness of grove;
Only thoughts were not silent and brisk,
Aching bitterly, longing to prove
......
From obscurity come the strangers
Fading away, like old dangers.
Walking the street of flowers
more people pass every hour
A few are pleasantry exchangers.
Near my porch, robin sings
Beautiful music for summer swing!
Red berries in a bowl
Kelly green butterfles, on patrol
......