days are where we live

What are days for?
Days are where we live.
They come, they wake us
Time and time over.
They are to be happy in:
Where can we live but days?                    Philip Larkin

Seattle reflections

September has come and I wake

And I think with joy how whatever, now or in future the system, 

Nothing whatever can take

The people away, there will always be people…

Louis MacNeice, from Autumn Journal

Lammas has passed…
 Now summer is in flower and natures hum Is never silent round her sultry bloom… 

John Clare
Heavenly Blue - Alkanet flowers
"Yes, I will spend the livelong dayWith Nature in this month of May;And sit beneath the trees, and shareMy bread with birds whose homes are there;While cows lie down to eat, and sheepStand to their necks in grass so deep;While birds do sing with all their might,As though they felt the earth in flight.”
 -   William Henry Davies, In May  
Summer’s coming…
 These children of the meadows born  Of sunshine and of showers!
John Greenleaf Whittier
HOW sweet it is, when suns get warmly high,
   In the mid-noon, as May’s first cowslip springs,
   And the young cuckoo his soft ditty sings,
To wander out, and take a book; and lie
   ’Neath some low pasture-bush, by guggling springs
That shake the sprouting flag as crimpling by;
   Or where the sunshine freckles on the eye
Through the half-clothed branches in the woods;
   Where airy leaves of woodbines, scrambling nigh,
Are earliest venturers to unfold their buds;                                             
   And little rippling runnels curl their floods,
Bathing the primrose-peep, and strawberry wild,
   And cuckoo-flowers just creeping from their hoods,

               With the sweet season, like their bard, beguil’d.

John Clare - May Noon