Poetry Sunday: July by Helen Hunt Jackson

Can it really be July? My garden says yes. The "flowers are withered" and "joys have died." Only the water lilies look fresh and unwilted. But "the white heat pales the skies" and I can't remember when we last had rain. It is unbearable to be outside in the middle of the day. Only in the early morning or late afternoon is it possible to be somewhat comfortable and to enjoy being outdoors. Already I'm longing for October. But first, we must survive the heat of July and August and hope for some reprieve in September. 

July

by Helen Hunt Jackson

Some flowers are withered and some joys have died;
The garden reeks with an East Indian scent
From beds where gillyflowers stand weak and spent;
The white heat pales the skies from side to side;
But in still lakes and rivers, cool, content,
Like starry blooms on a new firmament,
White lilies float and regally abide.
In vain the cruel skies their hot rays shed;
The lily does not feel their brazen glare.
In vain the pallid clouds refuse to share
Their dews, the lily feels no thirst, no dread.
Unharmed she lifts her queenly face and head;
She drinks of living waters and keeps fair.

Comments

  1. David M. Gascoigne,July 3, 2022 at 5:44 AM

    Summer heat can be unbearable, especially where you live, Dorothy. I can understand why you long for October. Even at the latitude where I live, I prefer the cooler months.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dorothy BordersJuly 3, 2022 at 9:56 AM

      July and August sometimes make us wish for a nice, friendly hurricane to blow away the heat for a few hours!

      Delete
  2. Rajani RehanaJuly 3, 2022 at 6:44 AM

    Beautiful blog

    ReplyDelete
  3. Lark July 3, 2022 at 3:26 PM

    Our flowers are struggling with the heat and lack of rain, too. That line in the poem that says "the cruel skies their hot rays shed" describes summer where I live very well.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dorothy BordersJuly 3, 2022 at 5:48 PM

      Exactly. It seems to perfectly describe our summers.

      Delete
  4. AlanaJuly 3, 2022 at 4:58 PM

    I am grateful, after the years I spent in Kansas, Arkansas (and yes, one summer in Northern Texas) enduring their summers, that we in New York State get breaks in the heat. Of course, winter comes eventually, which is its own story. Why can't weather be perfect everywhere? I hope you get relief from your drought soon.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dorothy BordersJuly 3, 2022 at 5:49 PM

      But if our weather were perfect, we'd just have to find something else to complain about!

      Delete
  5. The Butterfly ReaderJuly 4, 2022 at 12:53 PM

    I'm already wishing it were fall! We've had nearly two full weeks of temps right at 100 and this week we're going over that. Not to mention feel like temps!

    ReplyDelete
  6. thecuecardJuly 6, 2022 at 5:35 PM

    The heat wave in Texas sounds too tough for me ... but apparently not for the lily!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dorothy BordersJuly 6, 2022 at 5:59 PM

      It's too tough for me as well. I only go out for any extended period in the late afternoon. But the water lilies never flag. They always look fresh.

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no
Read more

The Investigator by John Sandford: A review

Image
  I have read a few of John Sandford's books in the Prey series featuring Lucas Davenport. This book is a literal offspring of that series. It's the first in a series featuring Davenport's adopted daughter Letty Davenport. Letty is in her mid-20s and a graduate of Stanford. She works for a U.S. senator named Christopher Colles in a desk job but she's bored with her assignments. Then the senator offers her a chance to go into the field as a liaison between his office and the Department of Homeland Security.  In her first assignment in that position, she is sent to Texas along with DHS investigator John Kaiser to try to find out what is happening in regard to thefts of crude oil. The senator is not so concerned about the lost oil but wants to know where the money from its sale is going. Who is selling the oil and what they are doing with the profits? The suspicion is that a particularly nasty militia group led by a woman is involved. Letty and Kaiser head out to Texas, de
Read more

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try.
Read more