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Old 11-12-2006, 01:03 AM   #27
JL Girl
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After reading all the memories you have, some of them making me smile, some making pause in shared sadness, each memory of yours similar to mine for 2006 and over the years at the "Lake" (and now I'm fortunate to live here year round)...beginning to increasingly remind me of an unrhymed poem I wrote here at the lake in the summer of 1999. Hope you don't think I'm too presumptuous including it here in this thoughtful thread Chris Exley started.

THE WINNIPESAUKEE

Day falls over the Winnipesaukee
The plaintive sounds of loons
Calling back and forth
The water still, the mist hovering
Just above the water but not touching it
The promise of a day unencumbered
By oppressive humidity and sun
The wind rustles through the pines,
The water softly lapping against the shore
The boat pulls against the wharf
Rhythmically slapping the lake like
Some ancient Indian cadence
It all reminds us of our childhood camp
Which isn’t there anymore
Except in cousins’ stories, “Remember when…?”

It’s afternoon on the Winnipesaukee
The loons are tucked away,
Far from the noise of modern craft,
Each boat in some race
To be the noisiest, fastest, sleekest vessel on the lake
We laugh in delight as the Marine Patrol appears
And makes them chug away in some sedentary parade
“Serves them right” we mutter and resume our reading
Tucked into Adirondack chairs at water’s edge
A soft breeze plays with our hair, gently lulling us into a lakeside nap,
Our books by now forgotten. Some drop to the ground,
Their owners’ hands lingering on the covers.
Others rest on snoring faces and only one is still half-grasped
By hands and reclining on its owner’s chest.
The afternoon deepens and later,
The increased rumble of passing boats stirs us all awake.

Dusk falls over the Winnipesaukee
We’re warm and full of vegetable garden abundance,
Gathered on the porch to sit in semi-darkness,
Watching for each evolving stage of a lakeside sunset
Like some magnificent scene being painted just for us.
A chill descends and we pull on sweaters, reluctant
To let the evening go. We settle into our chairs
And survey the darkening sky. Our laughter bubbles up in delight
As we recount humorous anecdotes about our many years at “Camp”.
The younger children and the older adults withdraw inside,
Boredom for the one and the warmth of the fireplace drawing the other.
The cousins stay on and the stories shift to the daring adventures of our youth.
We relive those timeless moments and then fall still, lost in memory
And the realization that even this gathering is just another moment
To tuck away and remember in the fall.
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