June Belongs To Me

June Belongs To Me

June belongs to me;
It is my legacy.

I treasure its sunny days,
It's panoply of wandering clouds
With sky-blue seas and open bays,
The haunts of thunder-surf reverberating loud.

Part of my wealth and my delight
Is new-green leaves that dance in the day
And whisper in awe at night
At the bright moon's silver-painting ray.

I count the warmth of summer rain,
The thirsty sun that drinks the water-ridden air,
The thrush's joyously ringing refrain
That spills from a swelling throat as I listen there.
I hoard the dark aroma of the wood,
Where the shadows seem to be weighed down
And lazy hours move in ponderous mood,
And brooks fashion of each boulder a jeweled crown.

And like a miser I grasp the ever-changing sight
A flash of wing, a shift of light so brief,
The splendor of the days, the secrets of the night
The fierceness of joy; and the mellowing of grief.

June belongs to me:
A priceless legacy.

~ Robert Lee Chadbourne

From my mother's poetry notebook