A blue moon and blue jazz in August
An August sky in the southern world
Is what I look upon this morning
Pale blue grey clouds, ashen and pallid
Some thin and some expansive
Most, full of shadow and resemblances
But seemingly immobile, sitting there
And in the air an early scent of wattle and
Miles sketching notes of melancholy and memory
Brings her to my mind
Those days when life had another meaning
When affinity and romance pledged forever
And the universe never stood still,
And so how do I see her now?
Still much the same really
Her welcoming smile and joyful laughter
That twinkle in her green brown eyes
Looking up quizzical like
Those teasing freckles on her cheeks
And how she is the way she gets angry
And all that she gives
In the depth of her truth,
This time then
Moored in that place
Recalls when as her boatman I rowed to her reef
and anchored for a while in the shelter of her love,
Now in this day that it is
These reminiscences give swagger and lightness to my soul
To go on into the unknown
With the sun on my face and hope in my heart
I stand tall to greet what comes