butterflowns

 butterflowns

pinned in many a camphorated drawer

ne’er the hedgerows ne’er no more

the meadows sweet the summer flowers

ups and downs over entwined bowers

pressed under blue skies end to end

hot white grasses making do and mend

of the ways of running of naughty boys

and jam jars full of summer’s toys

and up and over across and down 

just one step ahead of the pollen crown

of summer at its highest highest point 

melt my eyelids melt anoint all

the days that we thought would never end 

of a summer recalled recalled reverend