☆°▪︎ WINE, RHYTHM, AND RHYME (A SMILE OF SPRINGTIME) ▪︎°☆

I

thought

.

o

f

.

you

.

a

n

d

.

smiled . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

wondered

how

your

life

had

gone

.

a

l

l

.

the

while . . .

.

.

.

 ~ all

.

t

h

e

.

while

you

were

.

n

o

t

.

mine . . .

.

.

.

I

.

w

a

s

.

surprised

.

t

o

.

find

how

many

lows

.

a

n

d

.

highs

.

h

a

d

.

gone

by . . .

.

.

.

 ~ how

many

lows

.

a

n

d

.

highs

.

h

a

d

.

gone

by . . .

.

.

.

since

.

w

e

.

shined

our

smiles

.

o

f

.

springtime . . .

.

.

.

We

shined

our

smiles

.

o

f

.

springtime . . .

.

.

.

back

when

the

days

.

o

f

.

me

.

a

n

d

.

you

were

new,

.

a

n

d

.

still

.

i

n

.

bloom . . .

.

.

.

 ~ they

.

w

e

r

e

.

new,

.

a

n

d

.

still

.

i

n

.

bloom . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

we

knew

we

could

.

n

o

t

.

lose . . .

.

.

.

 ~ we

could

.

n

o

t

.

lose

.

i

n

.

those

restless

days

.

o

f

.

youth . . .

.

.

.

f

o

r

love

.

w

a

s

.

more

a

mood

than

a

proof . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

we

could

move,

.

a

n

d

.

pursue,

.

a

n

d

.

do

whatever

.

w

e

.

wanted

to . . .

.

.

.

 ~ we

could

.

d

o

.

whatever

.

w

e

.

wanted

to . . .

.

.

.

i

n

those

restless

days

.

o

f

.

youth . . .

.

.

.

when

everything

.

w

a

s

.

new,

.

a

n

d

.

still

.

i

n

.

bloom . . .

.

.

.

 ~ when

everything

.

w

a

s

.

new,

.

a

n

d

.

still

.

i

n

.

bloom . . .

.

.

.

including

me

.

a

n

d

.

you . . .

.

.

.

How

much

.

t

i

m

e

.

passed

by . . .

.

.

.

since

.

w

e

.

shined

our

smiles

.

o

f

.

springtime

.

a

t

.

the

starting

line . . .

.

.

.

 ~ since

.

w

e

.

shined

our

smiles

.

o

f

.

springtime

.

a

t

.

the 

starting

line . . .

.

.

.

igniting

.

a

n

d

.

exciting

.

t

h

e

.

eyes

.

o

f

.

delight

which

came

alive

.

a

n

d

.

would

marvel

.

f

o

r

.

miles

.

a

t

.

a

time . . .

.

.

.

They

would

marvel

.

f

o

r

.

miles . . .

.

.

.

They

would

marvel

.

f

o

r

.

miles . . .

.

.

.

They

would

marvel

.

f

o

r

.

miles

.

a

t

.

a

time . . .

.

.

.

 ~ those

eyes

.

o

f

.

delight,

alive

.

i

n

.

our

springtime

smiles . . .

.

.

.

when

.

t

h

e

.

words,

.

t

h

e

.

rhythm,

.

a

n

d

.

the

rhyme

were

.

l

i

k

e

.

wine . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

everything

.

w

a

s

.

fine . . .

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

everything

.

w

a

s

.

fine . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

could

still

.

g

o

.

right . . .

.

.

.

 ~ everything

 could

still

.

g

o

.

right

.

i

n

.

time . . .

.

.

.

f

o

r

we

would

ride

.

t

h

e

.

skies

.

o

f

.

starshine . . .

.

.

.

We

would

ride

.

t

h

e

.

skies . . .

.

.

.

We

would

ride

.

t

h

e

.

skies . . .

.

.

.

We

would

ride

.

t

h

e

.

skies

.

o

f

.

starshine . . .

.

.

.

nice,

.

a

n

d

.

bright,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

high,

.

a

n

d

.

wide . . .

.

.

.

mile,

after

mile,

after

mile,

after

mile . . .

.

.

.

smile,

after

smile,

after

smile,

after

smile . . .

.

.

.

f

o

r

we

.

h

a

d

.

rhyme,

.

a

n

d

.

wine,

.

a

n

d

.

candlelight

.

o

n

.

our

side . . .

.

.

.

 ~ we

.

h

a

d

.

rhyme,

.

a

n

d

.

wine,

.

a

n

d

.

candlelight

.

o

n

.

our

side . . .

.

.

when

.

w

e

.

shined

.

o

u

r

.

springtime

smiles . . .

.

.

.

 ~ when

.

w

e

.

shined

.

o

u

r

.

springtime

smiles . . .

.

.

.

I

thought

.

o

f

.

you

.

a

n

d

.

smiled . . .

.

.

.

a

n

d

wondered

how

your

life

had

gone

.

a

l

l

.

the

while . . .

.

.

.

 ~ all

.

t

h

e

.

while

you

were

.

n

o

t

.

mine.

Reflection: This was a popular romantic-themed poem I wrote back in August 2022 which largely reflects looking back on a cherished, one-of-a-kind, past romance – and is something most of us have probably experienced in our lives. Romance seemed so much easier in the days of youth when expectations were much lower, and we were less judgmental and more forgiving towards each other.

The opening lines to this poem came to me while I was at New Smyrna Beach. The remainder of the poem came into being a couple of weeks later by the accidental intersection of one of my favorite movies (“Film Stars Don’t Die in Liverpool.”) and an old song on the radio that I had never heard before on the drive back from Daytona Beach (“Come Saturday Morning” by The Sandpipers which was a tiny but catchy echo from back in 1970 – its peak position on the charts was at #17). And although this song was not in the movie, and not much of a hit, it really hit me and fit perfectly with what I was reflecting on and trying to capture.

The song served as the primary inspiration for the poem which took several iterations to write (while playing the song repeatedly on low volume to create the “moodset” for the poem). If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.