Cool air blows on winds of mortality, there in our glade. The trees have caught fire, lighting our way with blazes of yellow and orange on smokeless wicks. Memories of childhood games echoes over us-- a magic place, where we battled hordes of evil with wood sword and vivid colors of imagination. Our initials carved in the hand-rails as we discovered our first love in each other's arms and eyes. Gone these many years, you are still on my mind, and my tears are washed away in the stream below.