White clover scents the pasture, end rows and ditches,
sweetening June’s hay and May’s early dawn.
Cherries pop like red rubies on the tree, hanging like candy ready for pies.
Morning breaks early now, noon is warm and evening long.
May showers enliven young corn; farmers are held back from planting beans.
Greens flourish in the garden while blooms blaze on the rhododendums and peonies.
May on the farm is joy, sun and warmth; no humidity to chase us indoors.
May is light, and grass and shade under new leaves, kittens climbing down from barn rafters, swallows building nest in the eaves.
May cures us from damp spring, yet gives on to summer’s lazy days. I think in Indiana, we all yearn for the month of May.
-Sarah Beth Aubrey
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