Our Own Seasons Revisited

"Our Own Seasons Revisited"



Spring's reverent morning blooms mostly silly grins,
laced with yellow laughter and a brocade of lady-bugs.
Hand in hand, strolling a winding path,
crossing a budding meadow to hike a trail
through adjacent woods; curiosity and adventure at foot.
We smell of green-rain as it splats on the forest floor.
Young giggles erupt when sprinkles, wet-freckles,
tickle our faces. Moist laden lashes tease our sights.

Summer sizzles with white heat.
Large stepping stones bridge the way to reunite us.
A wispy cotton dress and bare-feet search for pastoral
patches of cool clover alongside a sparkling creek bed;
a satisfied find, where you waited. Thirst is quenched.
Water is life; whereas, effervescence of spirit ensues.

Drawing comfort huddled on a camp's log,
we snuggle our thoughts and share our news.
The glow of an October campfire highlights our profiles,
contrasted against a backdrop of dancing shadows
gathered from the night's chilled darkness.
Tracing your finger tips and palm's calluses
soothes my soul; a topical road map to your heart,
where I find my own center.

Blue-cold months separated us with snow crusted miles.
Winter years grew old and fractured.




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