Warm summer breezes,
Blowing softly in the evening,
Speak in low sultry whispers,
That tell of it's secrects.
Sweet smells of roses,
Dancing on their stems,
Shimmering with dew drops,
From late evening mists.
Remembering those wistful days,
Of childhood long past,
And wishing for those days,
To return once again.
Catching fireflies in your hands,
And watching them flash off and on,
Depositing them in jars,
And using them for night lights.
Laying on the sweet soft grass,
Looking up at the sparkling night sky,
Waiting for just one star to fall,
And making evening's first wish.
Watering the lawn,
With devilment in mind,
And turning the garden hose,
On your brothers in play.
Playing hide-n-go-seek,
In the late evening sun,
Laughing yourself silly,
At antics being played.
Going to the movies,
Of afternoon matinees,
Waiting for those "cliff-hangers',
That chill you to the bone.
Playing baseball in the park,
With the neighborhood kids,
Getting dirty all over,
And loving every minute.
There are many more things,
That stir the memories.
But one must not meander,
Too terribly long.
Wishing for those sweet days,
Only makes me melancoly.
For I must concentrate,
On today not yesterday.
I have to sigh tho,
With such yearning.
Those days are gone,
Never to return.
I must make myslef,
concentrate on today,
And take those forgotten times,
Into the back of my mind.
Some day when I am very old,
And have no one left,
I will bring out those memories,
And enjoy them once again.
I will smile at the rememberances,
Of each and every experience,
And laugh out loud with joy,
At the antics of my summer memories.
by Jann Newland
(copyright/2002)
