"And what is so rare as a day in June?" Quick, name that poem!
Nope, I couldn't either. I knew the line but not the poet or the poem. Thanks to this month's research I now know it's by James Russell Lowell, from "The Vision of Sir Launfal." I'm sure you've read it, right? I'm the only one who hasn't.
"from The Vision of Sir Launfal" by James Russell Lowell
No matter how barren the past may have been,
'Tis enough for us now that the leaves are green;
We sit in the warm shade and feel right well
How the sap creeps up and the blossoms swell;
We may shut our eyes, but we cannot help knowing
That skies are clear and grass is growing;
If you want to read the entire "Vision", here's the Project Gutenberg copy of the whole book of Lowell's poems that includes it. I have to say this part is the most accessible in the work, although the two lines right before the famous line are worth sharing:
No price is set on the lavish summer;June may be had by the poorest comer.
As with poetry about May, a lot of June poems are full of flowers and floweriness. I chose to skip most of those. June is a changeable month, with thunder and rain as well as roses and sunshine.
I've chosen a few lines to share here to tempt you into following the links to the full poems.
"After Many Springs" by Langston Hughes
Now,In June,When the night is a vast softnessFilled with blue stars,
"Wildflower" by Stanley Plumly
It is June, wildflowers on the table.They are fresh an hour ago, like sliced lemons,with the whole day ahead of them.
"June Thunder" by Louis MacNeice
The Junes were free and full, driving through tinyRoads, the mudguards brushing the cowparsley,Through fields of mustard and under boldly embattledMays and chestnuts
"June Rain" by Richard Aldington
Hot, a griffin's mouth of flame,The sun rasped with his golden tongueThe city streets, till men and walls shrivelled;The dusty air stagnated.
"June Wind" by Wendell Berry (presented in its entirety here)
Light and wind are running
over the headed grassas though the hill hadmelted and now flowed.
"June 21" by Robert Beverley RayNow it is completely summer.
The hot windy days, haze and white skies,Have given way to something cooler,
"On June Blossoming in June" by Karen An-Hwei Leein glowing strokes of late June lightfringed by the noise of peninsula traffic on the harbor laced by grease and silt from the machinery of life—the sea isn’t far away though only gulls could spy it from here—
"What Is June Anyway?" by David BudbillAfter three weeks of hot weather and drought, we've had a week of cold and rain,just the way it ought to be here in the north, in June, a fire going in the woodstove
"Twenty-first of June" by Elton Glaser
Air that blisters in the sun;Already I can feelThe sweat
Slide down the face of summer andPool in the steamy streets.
"In the Moment" by Billy CollinsIt was a day in June, all lawn and sky,the kind that gives you no choicebut to unbutton your shirtand sit outside in a rough wooden chair.
"From a Country Overlooked" by Tom HennenThere are no creatures you cannot love.A frog calling at GodFrom the moon-filled ditchAs you stand on the country road in the June night.The sound is enough to make the stars weepWith happiness.
A Year of Poems
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