The mood was bittersweet and lyrical.
The birds sang evening almost every day.
My dress was yellow as the paling sun.
Wind whispered of us to the Queen Anne's lace.
You held my hand lest I should slip away
Into the hollows of lost memory.
The fireflies danced our song through country fields.
I still recall how summer lit your face.
I wrote your poem in my storybook.
It lingers in the landscapes of my mind.
Although my sentiments did not match yours,
There never was another boy called Ben.
With Affection for a summer friend of long ago
Copyright,2008, Sandra Fowler
Semi-succinct, but oh so compendious, and mellifluous....Structure flows smooth as silk....and it all calculates to another Fowler Pen-Gem! ...ADD IT 2 TH' VERY LOOOOONG LIST! ! ! ! ~ F j R ~ (((2008)))
Past love is beautifully recalled. Makes me think I'll write about my first girlfriend. I can see her now. Memories! !
Great expression. Your poetry is unique dear Sandra. I enormously admire your poetry and personality as well.
We would say your sweet mood fills us so intensely our hearts that we surrender to your living memories having no counterparts. With affection and warmest regards, Maria
images....metaphors.... music of your words...is spellbinding. I loved this one...Summer, fireflies, dress yellow as paling sun, , , , , , , , , , , , wow. I am sure there wont be anyone like Ben
This is a magical poem of Summer and you have set a special mood for this special Ben. 'you held my hand lest it should slip away into the hollows of lost memory'. Beautiful.... 10 Karin Anderson
u are spectacular and the words have nostalgia to it..amazing and beautiful as are u! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes, poem is the the landscape of mind. My 10 for this beautiful poem.