Midnight May

Brightest May, with the sun borne breeze,
I love to watch the way you play
with every bird up in the trees
in all the glory of your day!

I see your youth in each new leaf
as antidote for feeling old
and reassurance that all grief
will somehow be by you consoled.

Your hearty clover, now in bloom,
breeds whilom thoughts of maypole dance
and happy memories exhume
as soil for some fresh romance.

And when your wind declines to chime
I'll build a fire in the pit
to watch your moon rise, just in time,
as day and night by twilight split.

Then solar rays and moonbeams trade,
their twenty four hour duties,
so later, when the embers fade...
Midnight May will show her beauties!