I stand tiptoe in summer's gay,
Still mood and view a Milky Way
Of daisy stars where grasses hide
Shy violets. Each bloom a bride,
Late lilacs with a breeze ballet.
Blue asters hem the book; a spray
Of birch is mirrored; wind-lutes play ...
Where lily yachts in stillness glide,
I stand tiptoe.
Although this beauty cannot stay--
The rose that blooms and shuts today
Will bud no more--yet deep inside
My heart I hold the summer's tide
Of blossoming thought-ripples sway--
I stand tiptoe.
