Her Favourite Place
In a sponsored private garden
on the bluffs above the lake where
specimens of nature's beauty could be found.
She loved to walk and smell the flowers,
watch the squirrels and sit for hours as they scampered
over tended lawns, chattering in squirrel talk.
We'd then resume a casual walk along the
flagstone path flanked by the beauty
of bedded flowers. Against the fence
she'd stop and lean and gaze down across
the lake serene where white sails flashed
upon the water.
Finally on a bench we'd stop to rest,
she'd lay her head against my chest and listen
to the birdsongs in the trees; moments I won't forget,
just the two of us in summer's gentle breeze.
I've been there but once since and struggle
to convince myself that it could be the same again
but those treasured memories cannot be
captured by my heart's refrain and so
I sit alone upon our bench and close my mind
to memory's wrench and dream anew
our magic moments once again.
YOU ARE READING
Contest entries, reviews and awards
PoetrySome new contest entries, and assorted stories and poems I have entered in various contests over the years that have achieved a modicum of recognition. I trot them out for your consideration.
