1950's Kelowna
photo by Don Collier
lake-scent and willow whispers
on the summer breeze,
young girl dreaming
under apple blossoms,
lost in reverie
hot summer nights
in the city,
twinkling lights
and darkling hills,
I sealed my fate
with a promise,
made for good or ill
young mother pushing
baby buggies
through summer afternoons,
at the lake with leggy children
who grew and flew
too soon
I blew home on the Westerly,
set up house
beside the sea,
felt El Nino's warming sigh,
so welcoming
to me
now I'm remembering
all my summers
lived,
while this old planet
spinned.
I hear the song
of all my yesterdays
upon the
summer wind.
for the Poetry Pantry at Poets United, where you will find good reading on a Sunday morning. Do come join us. Are you all finding it as inconvenient as I am, not having comments come to your email inbox? It makes it VERY hard to keep up and return visits. I used to respond to comments via email when possible. If I have missed you, I apologize. I checked with Blogger Forum. They are aware of the problem and say they will fix it and it will be working again soon. THAT is a relief!
Good old memories of those summer days and nights ~ Hope you are well and enjoying our summer Sherry ~
ReplyDeleteA lovely, lilting evocation of your memories. Must be the time of life – I find my mind running over mine, these days, with equal pleasure.
ReplyDeleteThis is beautiful, Sherry. I love the recollections and the reflections. I do think summer is a nostalgic time of year. I really love the last stanza!
ReplyDeletebucolic ~
ReplyDeleteI just love: I blew home on the Westerly...!!!!
ReplyDeleteI love the sweeping nature of this poem Sherry especially the darkling hills
ReplyDeleteMemories. Very comforting.
ReplyDeleteI blew home on the Westerly,
ReplyDeleteset up house
beside the sea...
These are lines that sing for every wayfarer and traveller longing for home.
Such wonderful imagery and nostalgia in this one, Sherry! 💞
ReplyDeleteWhat beautiful nostalgia Sherry and how well this poem read.
ReplyDeleteThe last verse is especially beautiful. I am enchanted by the idea of memories in the wind.
ReplyDeleteHard to remember them all, sometimes they fold together like a sandwich. xoxoxo
ReplyDeleteyou are full of sunshine!
ReplyDelete"all my summers
lived,
while this old planet
spinned."
Gorgeous lines
all those yesterdays hold memories.. beautiful poem Sherry
ReplyDeleteThis was SO beautiful - I was captivated from the very first line! Stunning writing. <3
ReplyDeleteNice to revisit happy memories, I enjoyed this piece, Sherry.
ReplyDeleteYour title reminded me of that old Frank Sinatra song 'The Summer Wind' and the poem took me back to summers I had forgotten. Thank you, Sherry!
ReplyDeleteHa, I had forgotten that song.......but I remember the summers. Smiles.
DeleteSherry, your poem is beautiful. At our age, reminiscing about our choices during our summer stage is often delightful and sometimes full of regret. What would we have done differently?
ReplyDeleteI've been a little lost in Blogger. I thought last week's poem never posted, so I posted it again today. Now I found all the comments and Mary tells me she posted it for me last week.
Blogger just can't test my lack of computer knowledge like this. Thanks or the info. I hope they fix things soon.
It all pours and pools together. This hypnotized me.
ReplyDeleteYour words (and their dreamy rhythm) are beautiful Sherry. I have read them several times.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful writing of happy memories, your path to now.
Lovely.
Anna :o]
Beautiful!
ReplyDeleteZQ
You rendered this beautifully with images as fresh as summer breezes.
ReplyDeleteSummer is such an enchanted time when we are young. Let us hope that memories of summer will be recalled with such blissful fondness ... always and forever.
I hear the song
ReplyDeleteof all my yesterdays
upon the
summer wind.
It is good sometimes to reflect on the pastjust so it will help to re-align our directions for the future
Hank
those summers must be beautiful. :)
ReplyDeleteI feel the summer! A great read!
ReplyDeleteLuv the layers in this poem. The here and now juxtaposed with the deja vu
ReplyDeleteThank you for dropping by my Sunday Standard this week Sherry
Much♥️love
The final lines are so poignant!
ReplyDelete