O Blue Jay up in the maple tree,
Shaking your throat with such bursts of glee,
How did you happen to be so blue?
Did you steal a bit of the lake for your crest,...
Kearsneyparks: when the scarlet cardinal tells
her dream to the dragon fly,
and the lazy breeze makes a nest in the trees,
and murmurs a lullaby,
it is july
(july by susan hartley swett)
Mongellimusic: when the heat like a mist veil floats,
and poppies flame in the rye,
and the silver note in the streamlet's throat
has softened almost to a sigh. it is july.
–susan hartley swett (1860-1907
Kevblue777: when the heat like a mist veil floats,
and poppies flame in the rye,
and the silver note in the streamlet's throat
has softened almost to a sigh. it is july.
–susan hartley swett (1860-1907)
Occultfan: when the heat like a mist veil floats,
and poppies flame in the rye,
and the silver note in the streamlet's throat
has softened almost to a sigh. it is july.
–susan hartley swett (1860-1907)
Everwood_lynn: when the heat like a mist veil floats,
and poppies flame in the rye,
and the silver note in the streamlet's throat
has softened almost to a sigh. it is july.
–susan hartley swett (1860-1907)