Nostalgia
An hour to spare in an attic room,
watered sunlight seeping through the gloom;
a cardboard box that holds a past
of memories that could not last.
Lift the lid, and times that we once knew
come flooding back, with ribbons faded blue.
a photograph that’s mellowed now with years,
a smiling face comes clouding through the tears;
the edges turning yellow now with age,
the smile that laughed, to make a page.
That arm that beckons endlessly to me,
a promise that could never really be.
nostalgic thoughts, back to the start,
I close the lid with heavy heart,
to lock away my memories once more
Copyright 1978 : Colin Gordon-Farleigh
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