The country is awash with flowers
on every *****, in all the dells,
The hedgerow with its ivory stars
its golden cups and sapphire bells

Yes, summertime is here once more
that warm and lavish, golden place
Where buzzing things with pearly wings
come flying straight into your face

Now jasmine scents the alleyways
I breathe the sweetness of the grass
And see the world with winsome eyes
like Alice through the looking glass

Those pollen grains that make you sneeze
are but a kind of faerie *****
And every dandelion- head
looks like a feathery powder puff.

While in the bushes now i hear
the sound of elfin industry
That droning like a distant saw
that is the music of the bee

I long to see a garden so
towards the flowers now i go
I view them as if gazing through
the peephole of a raree show

I peer into the damask boudoir
of a rose and there I spy
a ladybird so miniscule
it seems a beadlet to my eye


Then watch a dragonfly upon
the ruffle of a peony
as dainty as a painting from
some distant Chinese dynasty

At last I see the creature rise
as if a jewel had taken flight
And shimmer like an opal as
it flashes past my line of sight

And so I hope to always look
about this world with childish gaze
And notice treasures such as these
on balmy, golden, summer days