| I have published this poem in honor of my mom's upcoming birthday. She married
my dad in 1939 & in spite of her alchohol problem and later his strokes, they
had one of the strongest, most beautiful loving relationships ever. No it was
not just 'loving' - they were passionately fiercely devoted to each other.
She wrote this love poem for him near the twenty-second anniversary of his death -
just two years before she joined him.
My
September Song
There's a time of magic in the park
The sun lowers behind the shadows of Whiskey Row1
But the elm trees escape some shadows
And their tip most leaves are turned to gold
In these precious moments
Just before dark...
It happens only in September
Between summer heat and autumn's chill
When white haired lovers sit upon the benches
Or meander down walkways lined with green
His arm laid fondly across her shoulder
Always touching... and
remembering...
If my love could walk beside me as we stroll
Slow paced in
unison... holding hands
Perhaps we'd sit and rest a bit...
And at that special moment
When the elm tops shimmer and glow...
I'd turn to him and say
"I too have been touched by gold you know."
dink
September
'87
1. Whiskey Row is the local 'nick name' for a historic block in downtown
Prescott, AZ
Harry
& Lucille 'Dink' Porett
April
1963 ~ After his strokes
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