And what is so rare as a day in June?
Then, if ever, comes perfect days;
Then Heaven tries earth if it be in tune,
And over it softly her warm ear lays;
And there’s never a leaf nor a blade too mean to be some happy creature’s palace;
No matter how barren the past may have been,
‘Tis enough for us now that the leaves are green.
And the eyes forget the tears they have shed,
The heart forgets it’s sorrow and ache.
And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, comes perfect days.
(excepts from a poem by James Russell Lowell 1819 – 1991. Flowers from the garden last evening, June 13, 2012)