About the First of June

What I like, come ‘bout the first of June,

I’ll tell you this, it n’ver comes too soon!

When the birds are flying, upon the sky,

And along with them my heart soars high.

A heat that comes with a summer’s day,

A heat like you’ll never feel in May.

The long stem roses that reach up high,

You’d almost think, they’d touch the sky.

The grass that covers the graveyards in town,

And covers those that fill the ground.

As I remember those buried there,

And all their Junes, and how they cared.

The bugs are many, as they buzz about,

Some buzz too low and feed the trout.

The trees are green, with leaves anew,

Filled with birds and there families too.

The fire flies come out as evenin’ nears,

Yes, the beauty of June, I’m moved to tears.

For on the rise we fine the moon,

And it’s glow will fill the night of June.

And the lazy days will come to me,

And find me down upon my knees.

Giving thanks to God, I’m wise and smart,

I’m no longer young, but young at heart.

Along the beaches where the seagulls play,

I fine myself wadding this fine June day.

As the earth cools, as evening grows,

Nectar in the flowers begins to flow.

I think of a girl I use to know,

And how in June she use to glow.

As evening closes on this fine June day,

I almost forget, I’m made of clay.

As the young girls, like flowers bloom,

These are the things I like, come the first of June,

And I’ll tell you this, it n’ver comes too soon.

©

George Henry Nichols