June's furious face
has loosened slow hedgerow's pace
to a racing growth.

Moors dance non-stop
in June's ferny-curled blanket atop
heather's firm hold.

Old granite walls meant
to dagger through June's fervent
****** cannot resist.

Lines of division melt
in June's dashing intention
to cover all signs.

Let man or land stand
and June's hectic battering rams
will recognize neither.

For nature's law throws
human owner-ship overboard
as June's storm bursts.

Nothing can match June's
thirst for first place as the Queen
of Burgeoning.