If today is yesterday’s memory…
In their fashionable threads
Change trumps all each day
A mirrored reflection caught my eye
A black and white picture of you and I
Behind the reflection, rose colored walls
Sounds of love songs echoing down halls
Through the tracks of needles and tapes
Spun out of swelling love and heartbreaks
Time swirled around and streamed through
A broken part of me to a broken part of you
Shared memories linger in that ideal frame
A sequenced montage that calls out my name
As I gaze closely at the photograph once again
I glimpse the anticipation we could not contain
When our favorite song invited us to dance
We seemed to have been captured in a trance
The image keeps us locked in eternal embrace
What happened next, there is no sign or trace
That appears to be the way of sweet dreams
Where the magic is not as perfect as it seems
But as I lay my weary head and return to sleep
I rewind our love song that still makes me weep
It’s over now
It’s over now
The sluice gates were opened wide
Filling the river with tears that I cried
You hovered for a while
Not wanting to leave me like this
So you turned and gave me a final kiss
Still you keep coming back
In my thoughts, and into my dreams
Your face, reflected in the sun beams
Though it’s over now
There’s a special place for you in my heart
Even though we’ll now and forever be apart
The music will still linger on
It is the language of our souls
It permeates far beyond our controls
I’m so glad that I had this dance with you.
Rose tinted memories
Rose tinted memories,
your footsteps everywhere.
Each pathway I walked
with a phantom escort.
I tried to shake you off
but you steadily followed me.
In my disguise, I tried to hide,
yet still, you discovered me.
Now I see you everywhere;
converging the seasons
of a love which has sprouted,
slowly simmered, then burned
into memories’ rose-tinted love.
A practice in patience
standing in the shadows
you dawn on me
with a glowing smile
to wake up my heart
Clouds blotted you today
replaced with incessant rain
threatening stormy weather
refracted to my soul
as hours creep on
while I wait for you this time
I ought to love the rain
filled with memories
of its gentle dance with me
synchronised with my storm
But I am back to longing again
to find the Sun waiting for me.
Our Graffiti Walls
Sometimes the pain is unyielding,
deeply plunged with serrated edges.
Only you can see the ghoulish images
stuck on repeat, record, rewind, replay…
Brother take my hand because I understand
how the weather won’t efface, nor time erase,
the graffiti on the wall of your remembrance,
bleeding paint, rolling from those crying eyes.
Why does midnight seem so dark and cold
when you’re feeling strapped and alone?
While Insomnia wrestles your demons away,
daylight can’t seem to come soon enough.
But it eventually does Brother, it does!
See… the bleeding has stopped for a while.
When you looked out of your window
and saw that other artists had been at work…
Painting their own graffiti walls, you knew
that there were others outside just like you,
chasing ghosts at midnight, in frenzied spritz,
their pain transformed into nobel–prized art.
We’ll rise from the ashes again Brother!
Take my hand, you may lend me yours too.
Together like an echo
I hear the reverberation
See the reflection
Smell the fragrance
trailing my own scent
I know you feel it
Just as I do
The loving thoughts
I have of you
Together we dance
Among each other’s words
Completing the sentence
Which we’ve been given
By time and memory
Handcuffed by dreams
Tricks of imagination
That keep the fire burning
Of our endless yearning
Together we long
For the elusive
Turning back of the clock
Rewinding the years
To a time and place
Where age was no concern
Into another room
Together we draw
What we can with what we have
Sometimes it’s in the art
Sometimes in conclusions
The first time
Though time has passed
I remember it well,
The first time…
The sheer exhilaration,
How you felt against my skin,
As you enveloped me
And I took you in,
Against the shadows
Of emptied streets.
And I – like a child
Tasting a treat,
For the first time-
Walking in the snow.
I remember this little old general farm store,
now with rampant bougainvillea and new red door.
It has been many years that have gone by
preceding its neatly laid paving and painted sky,
when it still carried old brands and signs.
for it’s pioneering character, my heart still pines.
I pause and ponder how life can be,
no longer seeing what I wanted to see.
Where a new year rings the changes,
a new owner comes in and rearranges.
While a small wispy cloud passes over me,
a new door opens, and I now have a new key.
Still nostalgia’s blues constrict my throat
as memories flood from that same old boat,
with the sentimental feelings I hold dear
from many redefining winds through the year.
Well I remember, standing at the window,
many warm conversations held with you below.
Another cloud passes over and I feel at ease
Other new memories will soon replace these.
One day if we ever meet again and speak
I’ll still remember that very special week.
That spring we spent everyday together,
in blossoming, blushing bright weather.
As I turn to walk away, I wave a fond goodbye
with a single word of “thanks”, I look up at the sky.