Under summer sun,
Closed eyes,
Visualize.
A soft hue of  Crimson.
Where pictures blurred,
Images, obscure,
Drift unordered,
Through a uncluttered mind.
Thoughts of a serene nature,
Content just to be.
While the nostalgic sound,
Of an aeroplane's engine,
Echo in a cloudless sky.
Time idly slips on by.
And the call of one’s youth,
chime the ages.
Each season,
That  falls under the sun.
Like old memories,
That  hang  on the breeze.
Amid the beauty,
Of nature's sweet rhyme.
caught  up  in a few precious moments,
Slowly fading, falling backwards,
Through time.