Poem for the Tenth Sunday after Trinity

I love to see the summer beaming forth

I love to see the summer beaming forth

And white wool sack clouds sailing to the north

I love to see the wild flowers come again

And Mare blobs stain with gold the meadow drain

And water lilies whiten on the floods

Where reed clumps rustle like a wind shook wood

Where from her hiding place the Moor Hen pushes

And seeks her flag nest floating in bull rushes

I like the willow leaning half way o’er

The clear deep lake to stand upon its shore

I love the hay grass when the flower head swings

To summer winds and insects happy wings

That sport about the meadow the bright day

And see bright beetles in the clear lake play

John Clare (1793-1864)

Mare blobs, by the way are marsh marigolds or king cups, but I rather like the word blobs! 

Why not  include  in your prayer this week your own outpouring of what you love about summer.  No need for any punctuation either, not even a full stop at the end, so you can go on adding what you love indefinitely.

-Tina Lamb