Breeze
I see the summer breeze-
rippling through the corn,
like ghostly fingers caressing
angel harps;
and from the distance
of long gone days,
I hear again a love refrain,
and seek to stem the tears
which mingle with
warm memories
of days beneath the sun
when love was new and glowing
and we lived and breathed as one.
-© J.M. Lewis July 2001-
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