Inside: The best June poems to celebrate everyones favorite month of the year… because summer starts now!

The month of June is easily one of the most loveable months for many reasons.

This is the beginning of summer and the month that many children began their 3 month break from school. The flowers are in bloom and the weather is finally warmer.

June even comes with health benefits!

Statistically, as people begin to be more active and get more sunshine from the longer days, depression lessons and the immune system gets stronger.

Best Poems about june

June Holidays

During this month there are several holidays, including World Environment Day, a day that is spent caring for the environment and raising awareness about the many environmental issues that we as a planet are facing. This is also known as earth day. I mean, you give a home to billions of people and they’ll give you a day. Still, Earth day is one of my favorites to celebrate! I always throw a cleanup party at my local beach and then stay afterward for a cookout. It’s a great way to connect with nature and your community!

Another really important holiday during the month of June is Juneteenth, which falls on, you guessed it, June 19th! Though the emancipation of slaves had begun before this day, many black Americans in the south had no idea. It wasn’t until June 19th, 1865, that Union General Gordon Granger read the Emancipation Proclamation out loud in Galveston, Texas, effectively liberating slaves in the state, which had been beyond the control of the Union Army at that point. This day goes down in history as the day these people were set free. This has especially made June one of my favorite months of the year.

The month of June has been represented in art around the world. But one of my favorite forms has to be June Poetry! There are so many wonderful flowers to be spoken about, the blue sky, birds, and of course the holidays. So I’ve made a list of 21 of the Best June Poems! I also made a special section at the end dedicated to Juneteenth poems that you need to check out. It’s quite the finale!

Famous June Poems

1. A Red, Red Rose

O my Luve’s like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;
O my Luve’s like the melodie
That’s sweetly play’d in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I:
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry:

Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun:
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.

And fare thee well, my only Luve
And fare thee well, a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho’ it were ten thousand mile.

-Robert Burns

2. Im Nobody, Who Are You?

I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Are you – Nobody – too?
Then there’s a pair of us!
Don’t tell! they’d advertise – you know!

How dreary – to be – Somebody!
How public – like a Frog –
To tell one’s name – the livelong June –
To an admiring Bog!

-Emily Dickenson

3. We Real Cool

                 THE POOL PLAYERS. 
                   SEVEN AT THE GOLDEN SHOVEL.

We real cool. We
Left school. We

Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We

Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We

Jazz June. We
Die soon.

-Gwendolyn Brooks

4. Summer Sorrow

What shall meadow hold to please me,
Spreading wide its scented waving,
How shall quiet mosses ease me, 
Or the night-wind cool my craving?
Hill and hedgerow, cloud-sweet sky, 
Echo our good-by.

Bud unplucked and leaf a-quiver,
Bird that lifts a tuneless trilling,
Restless dream of brook and river,
All June’s cup a wasted spilling

You and I so thirsty-hearted!—
Summer knows us parted.

-Leonora Speyer

5.The Plateau

It was the silver, heart-enveloping view
         Of the mysterious sea-line far away,
         Seen only on a gleaming gold-white day,
That made it dear and beautiful to you.

And Laura loved it for the little hill,
         Where the quartz sparkled fire, barren and dun,
         Whence in the shadow of the dying sun,
She contemplated Hallow’s wooden mill.

While Danny liked the sheltering high grass,
         In which he lay upon a clear dry night,
         To hear and see, screened skilfully from sight,
The happy lovers of the valley pass.

But oh! I loved it for the big round moon
         That swung out of the clouds and swooned aloft,
         Burning with passion, gloriously soft,
Lighting the purple flowers of fragrant June.

-Claude McKay

6. Freedom

My Favorite month

is coming near

The month when my schedule clears

and everyday I can sleep til’ noon

That’s right, its almost June!


7. Anniversary

June is a month of flowers,

of love poems and sudden showers.

It’s the best month to ever exist,

because this was the month I first got to kiss your lips.


Poems about June

There are many poets who have covered this topic. In fact, some of these poems date back to the early 19 hundreds! This is one of the many reasons I’ve fallen in love with poetry. When you can read another’s words and be inspired when you not only have never met the person, but you never even existed at the same time. Really makes you think about how connected we all are. It’s amazing! Read on to get some more June Inspiration!

Fun poems about the month of june

8. June Sunset

Here shall my heart find its haven of calm,
By rush-fringed rivers and rain-fed streams
That glimmer thro’ meadows of lily and palm.
Here shall my soul find its true repose
Under a sunset sky of dreams
Diaphanous, amber and rose.
The air is aglow with the glint and whirl
Of swift wild wings in their homeward flight,
Sapphire, emerald, topaz, and pearl.
Afloat in the evening light.

A brown quail cries from the tamarisk bushes,
A bulbul calls from the cassia-plume,
And thro’ the wet earth the gentian pushes
Her spikes of silvery bloom.
Where’er the foot of the bright shower passes
Fragrant and fresh delights unfold;
The wild fawns feed on the scented grasses,
Wild bees on the cactus-gold.

An ox-cart stumbles upon the rocks,
And a wistful music pursues the breeze
From a shepherd’s pipe as he gathers his flocks
Under the pipal-trees.
And a young Banjara driving her cattle
Lifts up her voice as she glitters by
In an ancient ballad of love and battle
Set to the beat of a mystic tune,
And the faint stars gleam in the eastern sky
To herald a rising moon.

-Sarojini Naidu

9. The Month Of June

On this June day

the buds in my garden

are almost as enchanting as the open flowers.

Things in bud bring, in the heat of a June noontide,

the recollection of the loveliest days of the year

– those days of May when all is suggested,

nothing yet fulfilled.

-Frances King

10. Untitled

In June, as many as a dozen species may burst their buds on a single day.

No man can heed all of these anniversaries; no man can ignore all of them.

-Aldo Leopold

11. June Rains

I know well
that the June rains
just fall.


12. Summons

Wisteria woke me this morning,
And there was all June in the garden;
I felt them, early, warning
Lest I miss any part of the day.

Straight I walked to the trellis vine.
Wisteria touched a lifted nostril:
Feelings of beauty diffused, to entwine
My spirit with June’s own aura.

-Ann Mcgough

13. Peacefully

The quiet stars came out, one after one;
The holy twilight fell upon the sea,
The summer day was done.

-Celia Thaxter

14. Above the Fog

Last day of Spring,
ripe purple plums drop–
form is emptiness.

First day of Summer,
ditch completely dry–
emptiness is form.

-Mike Garofalo

Juneteenth Poetry

As promised, for our June poetry finale I’ve included some of the most moving Juneteenth poems out there. These were all written by people of color about the struggles they’ve had to face during their lifetimes, and also the relief and heavy meaning behind the holiday. Scroll down to see!

juneteenth poetry

15. Still I Rise Excerpt(Read Full Poem Here)

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
’Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?…

-Maya Angelou

16. Dream Variations

To fling my arms wide
In some place of the sun,
To whirl and to dance
Till the white day is done.
Then rest at cool evening
Beneath a tall tree
While night comes on gently,
    Dark like me—
That is my dream!

To fling my arms wide
In the face of the sun,
Dance! Whirl! Whirl!
Till the quick day is done.
Rest at pale evening . . .
A tall, slim tree . . .
Night coming tenderly
    Black like me.

-Langston Hughes

17. This is Not a Small Voice

This is not a small voice
you hear               this is a large
voice coming out of these cities.
This is the voice of LaTanya.
Kadesha. Shaniqua. This
is the voice of Antoine.
Darryl. Shaquille.
Running over waters
navigating the hallways
of our schools spilling out
on the corners of our cities and
no epitaphs spill out of their river mouths.

This is not a small love
you hear               this is a large
love, a passion for kissing learning
on its face.
This is a love that crowns the feet with hands
that nourishes, conceives, feels the water sails
mends the children,
folds them inside our history where they
toast more than the flesh
where they suck the bones of the alphabet
and spit out closed vowels.
This is a love colored with iron and lace.
This is a love initialed Black Genius.

This is not a small voice
you hear.

-Sonia Sanchez

18. Q.

One of the four Royal Stars is watching over me.  Yeah, I’m blessed in these times of nervous weather.  The leaves chill in a bundle then scatter like police, off to the next doorstep.  They don’t step, they don’t faze me.  These jeans could hold three men.  But it’s just one of me, girl.  Only Son.  Only Sound.  Only Seer.  All this green to gold to red to orange is just theater.   I’m the Real.  Keep your eyes on the Navigator of Snow and Infinite Gray.  I rock these boots all year.  What a storm got to do with me? Who knows the number of strolls to heaven?  Not that I’m thinking on it.  The Heavens know my real name.  But you can call me Q.   Quicker than Q.  But, anyway.   Certain things a man keeps to himself.  Jesus wept.  So I don’t. The past is for people who like to play things over and over.  Me, I’m on to the next song. Listen to my own Head Symphony, to the Royal Stars.  The colors, they thrill me, they fuel these legs.

-Yona Harvey

19. To A Dark Girl

I love you for your brownness,
And the rounded darkness of your breast,
I love you for the breaking sadness in your voice
And shadows where your wayward eyelids rest.

Something of old forgotten queens
Lurks in the lithe abandon of your walk
And something of the shackled slave
Sobs in the rhythm of your talk.

Oh, little brown girl, born for sorrow’s mate,
Keep all you have of queenliness,
Forgetting that you once were slave,
And let your full lips laugh at Fate!

20. Tired 

I am tired of work; I am tired of building up somebody else’s civilization.
Let us take a rest, M’Lissy Jane.
I will go down to the Last Chance Saloon, drink a gallon or two of gin, shoot a game or two of dice and sleep the rest of the night on one of Mike’s barrels.
You will let the old shanty go to rot, the white people’s clothes turn to dust, and the Calvary Baptist Church sink into the bottomless pit.
You will spend your days forgetting you married me and your nights hunting the warm gin Mike serves the ladies in the rear of the Last Chance Saloon.
Throw the children into the river; civilization has given us too many. It is better to die than it is to grow up and find out that you are colored.
Pluck the stars out of the heavens. The stars mark our destiny. The stars marked my destiny.
I am tired of civilization.

-Fenton Johnson

21. We Are Marching

We are marching, truly marching 
   Can’t you hear the sound of feet? 
We are fearing no impediment 
   We have never known defeat. 

Like Job of old we have had patience, 
  Like Joshua, dangerous roads we’ve trod 
Like Solomon we have built out temples. 
   Like Abraham we’ve had faith in God. 

Up the streets of wealth and commerce, 
   We are marching one by one
We are marching, making history, 
  For ourselves and those to come. 

We have planted schools and churches,
   We have answered duty’s call. 
We have marched from slavery’s cabin 
   To the legislative hall. 

Brethren can’t you catch the spirit? 
  You who are out just get in line
Because we are marching, yes we are marching 
   To the music of the time. 

We are marching, steady marching 
   Bridging chasms, crossing streams 
Marching up the hill of progress 
  Realizing our fondest dreams. 

We are marching, truly marching 
   Can’t you hear the sound of feet? 
We are fearing no impediment
   We shall never know defeat. 

-Carrie Law Morgan Figgs

june poems

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