Summer Sunday

Beams of light quiver through Summer leaves

lulling a Sunday afternoon into stolen moments,

I surrender to the peace diverted only by the soft

cooing – carried along by blackbirds chirruping,

if I close my eyes to the gentle sprinkling fountain,

imagination takes me back to sound of winding stream

where cool...clear water meandered between open trees;

we'd race flimsy, veined leaves trailing to see who'd won,

smiling at the memory of concealing myself in games

of hide and seek; hidden beneath a canopy of woodland

brush; loosing myself trying hard not to be found, damp

earth beneath no longer appealing; then sadly I'm revealed.

Seeking nourishment to feed the mind in a trinket box of

memories...stirring fragments that are precious only to me,

he brings me coffee a biscuit or two; my memories sail on by

on this sunny day; which brings me right back to my darling you.