35: Making Memories

With my feet buried in the warm sand,
after eating our fill of the sea’s harvest;
sit and watch the sunlight gently playing,
on the lapping bay-water with me.
Memories are made of this.

With good friends happily sleeping,
in swags around the camp fire;
steal away to the high ground
and lie with me counting stars.
Memories are made of this.

When the sun moves around to the west,
after a perfect summer’s day by the river;
take my hand and lead me slowly,
through the trees to watch the sun set.
Memories are made of this.

With our backs against a shady tree,
as the grand children squeal and dash,
through the sprinklers on the lawn,
Sit a while and lean in close,
Reminisce awhile with me.

Lady Satellite