Through winter’s dreary wastes I dream of June:
I fill the dull, grey spaces of my mind
With fantasies of summer’s luxuries,
Like honeyed vistas of a promised land…

The blackbird’s song in bursts of strawberry sweetness,
The whisper of a trillion trembling leaves,
The sun’s warmth, soothing like a slow caress,
The softest kiss of jasmine-scented breeze…

The sparkling zest of pure dew-spangled mornings,
The flaming noontides steeped in radiant light,
The golden afternoons of tranquil leisure,
The luminous and pearly-pale twilight…

When all the easeful hours stretch out like gossamer,
With time to simply see the world go by,
To gaze on gilded galleons of cloud
Afloat upon the ocean of the sky.

Through winter’s dreary wastes I dream of June,
For summer spares no time enough to dream:
The season and the solstice quickly pass,
The year flows down, relentless as a stream…

So little time to plan and cultivate,
To dig the soil, to sow and grow the seeds,
To mulch and nourish, care and cultivate,
To war against a wilderness of weeds…

So little time for fruit to swell and ripen,
So much to do while summer days still shine;
The luxury of dreams of June must wait
To brighten bleaker days of rain or rime.

Through winter’s dreary wastes I dream of June:
Like visions of the night that flee at dawn,
That dream never quite births reality,
Nor ever will until… oh yes, until
Into eternity’s high-summer bliss,
Miraculously one day I am born.

18 June 2019