Cooling A Summer Day With Monet

GARDEN MAGIC
                                      by MARIE NETTLETON CARROLL

This is the garden's magic,
That through the sunny hours
The gardener who tends it,
Himself outgrows his flowers.

He grows by gift of patience,
Since he who sows must know
That only in the Lord's good time
Does any seedling grow.



He learns from buds unfolding,
From each tight leaf unfurled,
That his own heart, expanding,
Is one with all the world.

He bares his head to sunshine,
His bending back a sign
Of grace, and ev'ry shower becomes
His sacramental wine.



And when at last his labors
Bring forth the very stuff
And substance of all beauty
This is reward enough.




LAUGHTER
                                      by COURTNEY E. Cottam

When a gauzy, purple butterfly,
Softly tilts a golden flower,
It's cool wings ease the summer flame
As laughter sooths a troubled hour.
 




Day's End
                                        by EDWIN W. PROCTOR

The twilight comes to cool the. air,
The shadows lengthen on the sod,
Soft breezes blow the garden through,
The leaves and blossoms sway and nod.

 

On garden path, in sheltering hedge,
In treetops dark and cloudless sky,
The evening birds awake to life,
To stir; to sing and upward fly.

  

And flowers, warm with summer heat,
Expand to greet the softened light
And shed, to show their gratitude,
A fragrance in the summer night.

Now all is peace. From meadows near
A cooling mist blows o'er the wall
And strangely lonesome in the night
There comes the thrush's silvery call.