Lingering alone on my porch,
leaning against the wooden railing.
Still feeling warm to the touch,
after retaining the heat from the day.
On a June evening,
after the sun had gone down,
just below the horizon.
The silhouette of the darkening tree-line,
contrasting with the light still remaining
in the yellow-white sky,
and streaked with lavender-blue clouds.
but with a slightly, cool breeze,
blowing around my body.
Tickling my bare feet and my bare arms,
and caressing my face.
Gently flowing it's invisible fingers through my long, golden-brown hair.
The essence of the roses,
now peacefully asleep in the garden,
mingle with the scent
of damp, green grass and the fresh, clear air.
Filling my lungs to capacity,
when I close my eyes, and breathe in deeply.
Exhilarating my senses.
I hear no sound,
except for a few birds singing somewhere off in the distance.
The chirping of one lonely cricket,
just awakening in the early dusk.
And, the heavenly melody
played upon the wind-chimes,
by a most talented breeze.