Breeze

The soft summer breeze
That carries the pollen smell
Through the evening air,
Brushes the nose,
Ruffles the hair,
Awakens my senses;
Sends leaves through the slats
Of park benches.

The red receding sun
That slowly falls below the trees
And casts a blossom haze
Across the water
On warm summer days,
Opens my eyes;
Spreads deep crimson lines across
The darkening sky.

The warmth of afternoons
That were spent in other ways
Returns with such sensations
And memories rekindle
The lost invitations
From forgotten faces
And the smell of just-cut grass
Takes my mind to other places -

To parks filled with trees,
Littered by new-leafed green,
Near ivy-covered red stones walls,
With chamber music playing
Around the ancient inner halls,
Under the sky's hazy blue with white button clouds,
While the breeze cast a blanket
Over the now distant sounds.

The flat rippling lake
That is gently touched by the breeze,
Reflects the glowing risen moon,
Bringing the circle round
All too soon.
I feel the cool air and breathe a sigh,
Sit back on a park bench,
Watch the world go by.