My love's reposed neath the military
lawns of rows of marble lit in
moonlight's tender care.
July, the month of dreams of him,
watching bluebirds feed their fledglings
under Carolina blue skies so vast
Maples and oaks sway in their full
foliage in a coquettish way with the
courting breeze.
Strawberry water, cold to my receiving
lips and throat.
The comforting summer serenade of
daytime into twilight's cricket chorus
so soothing,
I recall when we were young parents,
the newness of every morning,
our baby daughter of angelic beauty,
the leisure of the weekends with coffee
and the Sunday paper
How she grew so swiftly,
how proud you were,
and we began to become gray.
Our baby is forty-three, love,
and we miss your fatherly and
granddad's presence,
we love you so much.
Strawberry water and reminiscing,
sweeter than watermelon on this
summery eve. ~
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