I saw her sitting on a wall of stone
As on her flaxen hair the sunlight shone;
And as I gazed the summer sun stood still
To rob my mind of thought, and legs of will.
I stood there motionless amidst her grace
And watched the warm sunshine caress her face,
And dreamed those gentle sunlit hands were mine,
Drowning my soul in silent thoughts sublime—
A short sad moment later she was gone
Though in that silent spot I lingered on,
While in the west the dying sun did burn,
I stood there still, awaiting her return.
I placed my hand upon the stones now cold
And thought if they could speak of memories old,
What would they say of our brief meeting there;
And would they tell of sunlight on her hair?

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.