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,
And robbed my mind of thought, and legs of will.
I stood there motionless amidst her grace
And watched the warm sunshine caress her face,
Dreaming those gentle sunlit hands were me,
Drowning my soul amidst that imagery.
A short sad moment later she was gone
Though in that silent spot I lingered on;
And in the west 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.