There is a particular kind of English July that arrives all at once — the pavements baking, the sunflowers craning skyward, the cricket field gone from lush green to summer brown. This month’s poem catches that heat and holds it gently, weaving the small dramas of a Surrey summer into a quiet, clear-eyed verse. It is written by local poet TB (who writes as @magentapink22).
July
Parched pavements longing for the hiss of rain
sunflowers stretching up to reach the sky
bold agapanthus far from being plain
hottest reds and pinks, of gladioli
spring’s lush mown grass is now a summer brown
a slip of green on village cricket field
slugs munch leafy meals and gardeners frown
arable farmers worry about yield
fire crew called out to far too many fires
dogs trapped in cars suffering in the heat
slumps in sales begin to bother buyers
once affordable food is now a treat
we pass St Swithin’s Day and all is dry
but stars still shine, the moon will wax and wain
the cuckoos, swallows and the swifts still fly
a wettest autumn will return again.
— TB (@magentapink22)
but stars still shine, the moon will wax and wain
A poem of contrasts: the longed-for hiss of rain set against parched pavements, the blaze of gladioli and agapanthus against farmers’ quiet worry over yield, and — true to St Swithin’s old weather lore — the promise that a dry spell now may yet be answered by a wettest autumn to come.
If you write poetry inspired by Cranleigh and the surrounding villages, we would love to read it. Verse, like wildflowers, is always welcome in these pages.
This article first appeared in the July 2026 issue of Cranleigh Magazine. Pick up your free copy around the village, or read more at cranleighmagazine.co.uk.
