June poems from famous poets and best beautiful poems to feel good. Best june poems ever written. Read all poems about june.
We real cool. We
Left school. We
Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We
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O my Luve's like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June;
O my Luve's like the melodie
That's sweetly play'd in tune.
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I do not think of you lying in the wet clay
Of a Monaghan graveyard; I see
You walking down a lane among the poplars
On your way to the station, or happily
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Yes, I remember Adlestrop --
The name, because one afternoon
Of heat the express-train drew up there
Unwontedly. It was late June.
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My window-pane is starred with frost,
The world is bitter cold to-night,
The moon is cruel, and the wind
Is like a two-edged sword to smite.
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I.
No one's serious at seventeen.
--On beautiful nights when beer and lemonade
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What's the best thing in the world?
June-rose, by May-dew impearled;
Sweet south-wind, that means no rain;
Truth, not cruel to a friend;
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When June comes dancing o'er the death of May,
With scarlet roses tinting her green breast,
And mating thrushes ushering in her day,
And Earth on tiptoe for her golden guest,
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At midnight, in the month of June,
I stand beneath the mystic moon.
An opiate vapor, dewy, dim,
Exhales from out her golden rim,
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Tell you what I like the best --
'Long about knee-deep in June,
'Bout the time strawberries melts
On the vine, -- some afternoon
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whatever slid into my mother's room that
late june night, tapping her great belly,
summoned me out roundheaded and unsmiling.
is this the moon, my father used to grin.
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When storm-clouds rumble in the sky and June showers come down.
The moist east wind comes marching over the heath to blow its
bagpipes among the bamboos.
Then crowds of flowers come out of a sudden, from nobody knows
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I’ve watched the Seasons passing slow, so slow,
In the fields between La Bassée and Bethune;
Primroses and the first warm day of Spring,
Red poppy floods of June,
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O Winter! frozen pulse and heart of fire,
What loss is theirs who from thy kingdom turn
Dismayed, and think thy snow a sculptured urn
Of death! Far sooner in midsummer tire
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'Am I, at bottom, that fervent little Spanish Catholic child who chastised herself for loving toys, who forbade herself the enjoyment of sweet foods, who practiced silence, who humiliated her pride, who adored symbols, statues, burning candles, incense, the caress of nuns, organ music, for whom Communion was a great event? I was so exalted by the idea of eating Jesus's flesh and drinking His blood that I couldn't swallow the host well, and I dreaded harming the it.
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O suns and skies and clouds of June,
And flowers of June together,
Ye cannot rival for one hour
October's bright blue weather;
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June was not over
Though past the fall,
And the best of her roses
Had yet to blow,
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Gone, I say and walk from church,
refusing the stiff procession to the grave,
letting the dead ride alone in the hearse.
It is June. I am tired of being brave.
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By June our brook's run out of song and speed.
Sought for much after that, it will be found
Either to have gone groping underground
(And taken with it all the Hyla breed
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worked Eastern Gas and Fuel Everett Ma.. My uncle jack seen above told me years ago at 3 hemlock Hampton Nh he was under the train on the grounds of the train with a severed cut leg.... he said the train was moving back towards him and there was a part under neath on the roof of the underneath part of the train that was moving back toward him. He said that if he had stayed under the train that section would have hit him and he would have been killed.my uncle said that he rolled out from under the train holding on to his leg. he said that there were some guys coming towards him or something and that he said to them i believe just cut it. Gayle Sweeney June 28,2024 my uncle was a pilot and flew small planes. He took Billy and I up when we were little and it was windy. When we landed Uncle Jack described a lot to me how a plane flies.... He went over quite a bit and i remember thinking to myself just act interested. I am glad for the talk because after hearing about the parts of the plane what i remember is that the air gors under the wings and that gives the plane lift which makes it fly..... I have his flight history in my room at 35 Quimby Ave Woburn MA which he told me and it is hand written. I wrote as he was telling me his story... HI USA...My uncle was out there.... Je ne comprend pas that anyone could think for an instant other than..... this is the USA..... I have rights, Just ask the spirit in my heart of RFK... R.i.P BullShit... Heaven is a TRip...Wonder.... God Bless the USA.....my uncle was in Korea and said he was in a fox hole and ate out of a can and there were bugs of flirs i dont remember which. In his old age he wore a Marine hat. he told me wings level and nose down did he tell me> Anyway i remember wondering if he was trying to kill me. nose down and all... years i think later i thought well wings level is good and nose down solling about at the ground... I sont know when his 'accident' was... My mother said after KOrea...I think she said he got his license to fly snall planes after he was in Korea.. he couldnt fly coomercial planes because of his leg which was his dream... I was his flower girl and wore a pink dress and a kind of pearl bracelet. I have the picture i think in my room. The dress is hanging uo in the cellar 35 Quimby Ave near the ceiling near the washer and dryer where the water has leaked down from the shower for years and years. try getting anything done without checking with her first. I was thinking you have to pick your battles... She wants you to check with her first to doanything for God knows which things but when you do something without asling iy is not unusaul for that to be the thing you should have checked with her first on . Like paul lied about the ceiling there she said and it all needs to come down... The walls are warped and alll need to come out which i asked about and she said no... they insulate the place upstairs so it wont get cold upstairs. She has said her legs are cold watching tv there in the winter. I bought her numerous slippers including the upgraded down which she said she does not need because she does not get cold... If you want a dull assessment of such said household ask her she is the one in charge according to her however on the Assessors website of Woburn It says that Karen, Bill and Rick Own... Quell supise! Paul and I are homeless i take it because we never hear from karen and Bill. At times Rick came over and he can be wonderful with soup and a handmade birch waking stick for me, , , No charge there. One thing... Father Joe wrote in a homily for his 60th Anniversray in the priesthood see the history of St Bertoni website - if you dont know what you are talking about keep your mouth shut...anyone who says Paul and I are psychiatric and not deligent or the like is no friend of ours. Rick because of Native American Indian history and his Turkey Soup will always be in the loop somewhere in my heart just dont bring up pschiatric ever... Thats our right...Rick will always be an aquaintance at least.. The other 2 - Karen Sweeney maiden name, Nee married name on paper and William Sweeney can go blow.... God Bless Our Home.... and May the Road rise to Meet you who love all......Gayle Sweeney June 28,2024 follow the money.....how many irrevocable trusts have there been if any? any now? I was told they can not be revoked - irrevocable trusts by mother....I was told by mother there were 3 irrevocable trusts. How did Karen and Bill get their names on ownership papers of anything my father bought? ...Gayle Sweeney June 28,2024 Bon Chance PERE Dad RIP
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June, a month of golden days,
Where summer's warmth begins to blaze.
With skies of blue and sun-kissed air,
June whispers secrets everywhere.
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The Monsoons
Although my father had another gainful occupation as a teacher, our household was predominantly agrarian.
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O June, thou art the sweetest time of year,
When Sol's warm rays upon the Earth do gleam,
And skies of azure, pure and crystal clear,
Awaken life from Winter's wistful dream.
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Introductory Poem:
I've entered 5 poems below from five of my PoemHunter friends.
Let's hope this site, though imperfect, unlike ME, never ends.
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Monday morning, June 5, 2023 at 7 a.m.; Tuesday morning, June 6, 2023 at 8: 40 a.m.; Thursday morning, June 8, 2023 at 8: 12 a.m.
'There's been a hoot owl howlin' outside
my window now for six nights in a row;
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June 12th came and went yesterday…I imagine to most people it was just another date.
But like birthdays, anniversaries and holidays it's a day we should all celebrate.
This day's history began in Virginia with Mildred Jeter and Richard Loving who fell in love and thought it would be great to marry and spend their life together…but this was 1958.
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At the height of June, early summer.
Here and there, it occurs the orchestra.
The trumpet creepers hold a walker,
At the height of June, early summer.
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