THE SEMINARY

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