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Memories linger melancholy
as I approach the bridge 
to the Gardens de Sol.

                                              
A picture forms in my weary mind;
Just a mere shadowed  mirage,
like an old faded photograph
in a heart shaped locket
kept  near my soul centre
for days, weeks and decades….

while
fall winds crooning blue zephyrs
frigid, incantations upon the
once verdant meadows
where the fawns grazed
and wild horses pranced
 so breezy carefree
on fine spring days....

I whirled and twirled , a carefree dance
on patches of clover and dandelions
in the spring of my youth

Reveling joie de vivre of sun
Sol warming skin and soul pink

I remember our long, meandering walks
in a picture perfect  rose garden 
scented with redolent pines
and aromatic wild flowers 
we conversed for hours,
my hand in yours
thrilling at your every word
infatuated by a fervent touch 

You, idly picking petals off a rose;
the deep timbre of your delicious laugh
resounding  joy to my acquiescent ears
as I cavorted playfully in the garden’s fountain
until lengthening shadows quilted the path
with reluctant to leave, sun beams
of a late summer afternoon

And afterwards, in twilight violet sky;
intimate moments by a blazing fire,
silent music of our hearts thrumming
a lovers sonata while
you kissed me;

gold specked brown orbs, 
so pleasurable and beguiling,
warming my soul
full of tomorrows promise
and forgotten yesterdays

Now, as I picture this quixotic drama
rehearsed again and again
one solitary tear slowly trails down
and comes to rest on lines
that were not there yesterday…..

Dead cornflake leaves
crunch under my feet
as I walk the very same
bridged  pathway to the garden 

alone

my only audience
a solitary prickly cactus

in the autumn of my years.......

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