I steer my boat
beneath the lacy moss of
cedar trees where a  lark  drapes
her song,  a spray of flowers, along
the whispering stream.
Beyond the shallows a wooden bridge
where we cast our secrets to the water,
goldenrod along the bank witness the
 breathless embrace of  lovers.
So blue were your eyes those summer days,
 how endlessly deep the longing.

art by Steve Hanks

58 thoughts on “a longing

          1. Oh my! I didn’t know a line of debarkation was established. Not many people know that southern belles were tough as forged iron even in a hoop dress. My grandmother home schooled me on manners straight from an original printing of Amy Vanderbilts’ The Complete Book of Etiquette. In there was explicit instructions on how I, as a young gentleman, would properly address our southern belles. It did not mention that I would sustain serious verbal injury and latter corporal punishment if I violated those rules. We learned the hard way in those days.

            Liked by 1 person

          2. You turned out great Dan. I’m all to familiar with the book of etiquette, remember I was taught well by my southern belle Grandma. All due respect to her for raising six kids and then taking me on. She was a grand lady. 🤗

            Liked by 1 person

          3. Our grandmother’s were the real deal and you turned out pretty doggone awesome to the max yourself. When I was being my naughty little self, my grandmother would remind me that she may be a lady but she had a strong right arm, which was to remind me my rascally bottom was going to feeeeel the Pow’r. Grand mother’s are the best.

            Liked by 1 person

Comments are now closed.

%d bloggers like this: