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Summer by the Lake
Folder:
Love Trail called Waiting,
does your pathway still
hold the ecstasy left
there so long ago?
Even the crickets
remember our names,
and the hibicus
blushes.
I long for this
treasured canvas and
the soft murmured
music of the songbirds.
For all time, I will
remember those days.
We were so much a part
of each other
in our summer years.
Now, long past that time,
I listen for your
footsteps on the trail
of Waiting,
feeling the familiar warmth
of your wanderlust flame,
fondly embracing me
with memories of that
one soft summer.
