TheBanyanTree: JEAN LUC

[Sharon Mack]

JEAN LUC


The soft cool lines of summer
Have come to grace this lawn;
With weeping willow blowing,
The spring left with the dawn.


So soft are tender breezes
Blowing 'cross my cheek;
I wonder at their lightness.
My toes cool in the creek.


Cool, clear water rushing past
Stepping-stones across,
Lead the way into the wood;
The trees hung green with moss.


My mind does catch quick glimpses
Of mem'ries left behind.
They pass through rather quickly
As did your love's sweet wine.

The wine of sweet caresses,
And tenderness of speech,
Your face upon my pillow,
Our footprints on the beach.

And then they're gone forever
As quickly as they came.
The clouds have caught the sunshine,
The breeze is not the same.


I pick my way across the grass
And breath the last of morning.
I leave behind my memories,
Your black eyes yet adoring.


Sharon A. Mack
(March 1, 1991)