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i spy july ( some seasonal jism )

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so june is dead etc.

the grass is wet, the river's dry

a foxgloved time & fox cubs too

there's buttercups & butterflies


so on we plod - us plucky sods

the squinting sun in blinks it shines

on mossy walls as nature calls

on corncockle & columbine


the swallows swoop in nifty loops

there's nettle stings where thicket thrives

there's fattened lambs - the grazing's good

there's cowslip herds & thistle spikes


the woods are cool - woods always are

then gleaming in the valley wide

a golden sight upon the first

i spy july

& six magpies

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