Day's Of Jasmine... Poem by Frank James Ryan Jr...fjr

Awoke this morning to a gentle mist,
something told me to close my eyes,
for a moment, and when I obliged
I sensed an aromatic breeze in air
of Jasmine, and summer nights long ago;
and my mind took flight against the clock,
of hot August nights and Bonnesfarm,
'neath the old boardwalk that nestled us
after the last drop of wine had died
on our tongues and in our heads...Ahh!
Time mattered not to the pitter-patter
of angel-hair rain gently tapping the wood
above us, as we bob to dodge the seep
of the raindrops that found the spaces,
between the wood planks...so refreshing.
And in then air, from a single match strike
the sensually sweet scent of Jasmine,
Incense breaking our senses wide open,
someone begins to sing that song;
The Strawberry Alarm Clock and us.
And all was fine, and all was good,
while pleasure ruled the stormy night.

Suddenly my eyes reopened, and I-
looking around, saw nothing I'd seen,
touched or tasted from yesterday,
when all was fine, and all was good,
so very different than how it felt
this morning...many yesterdays past.


©Frank James Ryan, Jr. / FjR
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