Septembers Embers.
There is nothing like a Summer love
Sometimes Summer's beaty is a living, breathing temporal love.
September's Embers.
The swoon of
June's approach
offers me hours I'll
spend on the beaches,
basking in the sun's
gentle caresses,
and it takes me back to a long ago summer romance.
My blond-haired,
blue-eyed Janet,
with lips the
color of pink coral,
kisses colliding to
the motion of the ocean,
and those nights
we spent fireside,
as driftwood burned,
and she gazed
with adoration on me
as I played my guitar,
and sang tributes to our love. The sights, sounds
and scents of it all,
bring back
the aches
of our geographical parting,
and how its end
made no sense.
When in August
a gust
of sighs and sobs
prevailed in
two souls. Sometimes
the brevity
of love
astounds me.
We are far
too ofte left
as a castaway
on an island of one,
just a shell
of ourself in the
shade of two palms,
as the one we
loved skips across
the vast waters of time
like a
fevered stone
leaving only ripples
fond memories
expanding outward
and then vanishing
in the embers of September
as the summer also fades
© 2010 Matthew Frederick Blowers III