It was the summer of her seventeenth birthday –

He was barely eighteen.

They sat side by side in the grass, their knees slightly touching.

He observed quietly as she constructed a chain made of daisies.

They shared sandwiches and secrets beneath a hot

August sun.

When finished, she held up the necklace she had

Made with the blossoms.  Smiling softly, he took it from her

Hand and placed it in her hair.  Ever so gently, he

Brushed his lips against hers,

And in those few moments,

time seemed to stand still.

That was the summer of first love’s glances,

Salt air kisses and warm ocean breezes…

That simple, yet extraordinary summer,

When they seemed to possess the freedom of the wind.