Arm in arm we strolled
through its pebbled walks
among the beautiful
weather-rusted structures,
citadels of knowledge
harboring the atmosphere
of boys who had laughed,
learned, and departed.
"Come into my halls and
see what truth and beauty I hold!"
On these weathered stones
the wandering vines
cling so green and
full of life,
creeping over all,
welding the joy, sorrows,
and life of years gone by
molding a living entity,
imbuing the inanimate
with a beauty of life.
It was vacation time
as we strolled
amidst a sprinkle of rain drops
while a whispering breeze,
rustling leaves,
and swaying grass
murmured songs of love.
Brown Eyed Susans
peeked their way
through the heather
as we strolled among them
talking, loving.
1997 by Pasqual S. Schievella