Mountain breezes wash the sun covered hills,
and whisper peaceful echoes of love
across the shade of the porch where I sit
and stroke the page with poetic care.
A yellow-bird whistles from its perch
in a yellow maple, reminding me of her beauty
lingering in my heart, that soaks up all the love
she has to give.
Dreamy eyed, I see her running across a meadow
with out-stretched arms inviting my embrace
Brown-eyed Susans part her path, sharing the laughter
ringing in the wind -- time stops to watch.
At our touch, smiles mingle between lips of passion
waning years disappear in youthful desires remembered
from youthful days. A new flame flickers and burns
in the valley twilight -- we stroll, fingers tingling, into infinity
the yellow-bird whistles our love song from the yellow maple.
by Walt Barger
September 10, 2002