The Summer That Time Forgot Poem by James McLain

Pretty days golden hay cool patient nights
spinning around upside down right side up inside out.
Soft warm breath it's smell I can taste
the sky is a room from which I have come I now wait.

Hurry not quicken the pace can you not hear
the sound of a place where few others like you I have been.
I have seen all the wonderfull things, things that were
never meant to be seen, yet like you there I've been.

Time may forget the meaning of friends loves the blame
in a way few have known or know the true meaning of.
Lost in a way when it can be found once again putting to rest
the feelings we felt the summer you left that time forgot.