Avondale Poem by Colette Carraher

Sun, shimmering,
Caressing the playful leaves
of the tall trees.
Descending, surreptiously
to warm the gushing waters lying beneath
Transforming the rustic tinge
of ancient stones.
Surrendered long ago to its depths unknown.
Here I sit, silent, unmoved
and inhale the tranquil air.
Its' deep silence only broken
by the call of the Nightingale.
Here, I think of you, and feel
the passage of time,
And the lingering scent
of the presence of your love
And a gentle warmth
Lets my thoughts drift,
to one other day, some other place,
Another time.