Today I spent my afternoon
not with one best friend
but with five close ones,
a book in which to delve
Mahler's symphonies
Schumann's concertos
Tchaikovsky's Overture of 1812


"What's that?" you say,
"Who is the other?"
at my age, my mind wanders
of course, I cannot forget
my quiet bower
my comfort zone
the porch swing where I sit


It's still too soon for me
to write about two best friends
who have passed and gone
whom I knew for many years
my confidantes
my leaning posts
our fun times still too clear


Everyday things became friends
they're steadfast and true
always within my reach
and they'll never grieve
they quietly wait
for a new friend
and I will take my leave


  


By susi Taylor (Texaswishr@aol.com)








Still Summer in the South

The Blue Canoe

Poem About a Rose

Nature (several authors)

Last of Summer Days (several authors)

Tinges of Fall in the Air (several authors)

That Old Rusted Bucket

I Wonder Sometimes





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