A Summer Remembrance
at the end of daytime fever
I hear the thunder
rumbling in the distance
a forgotten song from long ago —
is it you, my lost love,
your beloved voice
resonant
in the clouds,
a lament of lavender longing
and the firefly lightnings —
did you come to let me know
infinitely far from the miles of sky
that you remember my smile,
and how life would have been
filled with flowers
if we walked hand in hand
in the summer rain,
just you and I —
now comes the twilight,
the rumbling thunder fades
into a sigh
and I walk in my garden
alone
with this poignant longing
of holding your hand.
D. G. Vachal (c) 2025
Image by Geronimo Giquea @Unsplash
lilies, sparrows and grass 
So compelling, D …I love the deep 💜 connection you rendered to a beloved voice as a “lavender longing”…as though a voice we love carries with it all the evening sky’s colours that we wish would never fade…beautiful!
Thank you, Susan, for your lovely unraveling of the words in this poem — “the voice we love carries with it all the evening sky’s colours that we wish would never fade.” So beautifully stated! 💜
I singled out that phrase, too, as being exceptional… the “lavender longing”… another beauty.
Thank you so much, Ellen! I’m so glad you also singled out the phrase “lavender longing”. The words just came so naturally as I was writing this poem. 💜🙏
Yes, that is obvious. You are in touch with the “Source.” 🙏🏽
🙏
“a lament of lavender longing” – oh my goodness! how lovely! Linda xx
Thank you so much, Linda!
you’re so welcome! 🥰