Golden Days

Golden days on white sands Walking the beach a sea breeze at hand Sunsets in red yellow and indigo Always somewhere for us to go There are ghosts that walk with me Who want to keep me company I see them once and a while Where they look at me and smile The north wind blows and warms me In hot summer days that bring it back with glee And those mates that I remember now Are walking beside me Remembering them so easily. © Paul Warren Poetry