Have you heard the wind whisper through the trees
in the dead of June?
Have you stopped and listened to their somber tune?
Have you seen their mighty roots,
That wind will play like little flutes?
But do not laugh and do not whimper.
For the wind has a temper...
And might leave all afternoon.
Not to return till the lively night of June.
For the frogs and crickets come out to sing,
Chirping and a croak begin to ring.
You wont believe what the wind will bring;
In the dark of June.
Take a listen and take a seat.
Then you might hear the gentle beat.
In the midst of summer's heat.

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