If you are on your bike or driving by
I dare you not, when passing by,
To break into the widest smile
At their heralding of July.
In fact I suspect, that on first sight,
You will shout in sheer delight.
Maybe stop a while,
Soak it up, with bread and wine.
For this is God’s butter,
A lavish slather of summer,
That melts and simmers
In the sun’s unrelenting shimmer.
A gold embroidered battalion
On parade since Napoleon.
Old Faithfuls marching on and on
Though world wars are now long gone.
Now these loyal servants of the land
These merry souls strong and grand,
Bring only joy you understand
To me and those who hold my hand.
So stop I say, and take their salute
For there is no sunnier sight or suit,
That is their match or substitute
However resolute your keen pursuit.