The summer drives have revealed old-fashion multi-flora roses, Queen Anne’s lace, Indian paintbrush, coneflowers, clover, black-eye Susan’s, buttercups, straw flowers, lilies, and cattails along the country roadsides. The town blocks are lined with blooming hydrangeas, crepe myrtle, roses, Shasta daisies, lavender, and tiger lilies with pots of geraniums, petunias, lantana, bridal veil, impatiens, and culinary herbs besides. This week oregano and Italian basil dazzled my white pasta sauce and thyme, mint, marjoram, and lemon basil spiced up the brown rice dish. Meanwhile, lawn sprinklers water as the rains have been scarce in June. My aubade to this Midsummer …
My Aubade This Midsummer
The summer solstice is June twenty-one,
direct opposite of the Midnight sun.
At nine fifty-seven am central time this year,
an ephemeral moment in this celestial sphere.
A spectacular morning this Midsummer,
as swollen rain clouds promise like a redeemer.
The feathered friends’ frenzy at the birdfeeders,
nature’s behavior encourages this pleader.
Blooms and greens need raindrops ten thousand,
allowing all five senses to be arousing.
Especially in gardening, patience is a virtue.
The garden hose is out to water those plants, quite a few.
The flowers’ colors and fragrances are a seduction,
and those clouds escaped again without a production.
Too dry before July and August’s usual drought,
more prayers will surely open the heavens, rain showers to come about.
Anna Marie Gall ~ June 21, 2023




























