Yesterdays

I gathered all my memories
lest they faded to the past
No melancholy there
but I wanted them to last
For collectively they’ve shaped me
into what I am today
Precious to hold onto
as my tomorrow’s seize the day

©Jemverse

Photo – Jempics

This town of mine

Someone sent a photograph
of how it used to be
Shoreham when I was a lad
Evoked a memory

Walking home from school each day
climbing up the wall
Jumping on the old bomb there
never once to fall

The den up in the manor
on the edge of Buckingham Park
where we’d hide and read our comics
and stay ’til it got dark

The sea defences on the beach
near to the harbour’s arm
Ignored our parents’ warning
though we never came to harm

The ruined house in Kingston Lane
its air-raid shelters gave
us reason for adventures
in the dark just like a cave

So many memories I have
of times now gone before
when Shoreham was a different place
this town on Sussex shore

But something nurtured way back then
has stood the test of time
As I’m still here and call this home
This lovely town of mine

©Jemverse

 

Moments of sublime

I went walking on a hilltop
though I wasn’t really there
And then I was beside the sea
with toes in water bare

I went climbing on a mountain
though it was I think a dream
As really I was looking back
at places I had been

Photos captured on my Mac
of memories in time
Providing for nostalgia
for moments of sublime

©Jemverse

Photo – Jempics

Hidden Truth

Fragrance of the harbour
Familiar to me
with salt and oil and pitch and tar
and yes, of course, the sea

Memories of the harbour
treasures from my youth
Those halcyon days that carry
so much hidden truth

©Jemverse

Photo – Shoreham Harbour, Sussex – Jempics

Old blue bird table

We have an old blue bird table
some years beyond its prime
But we’ve had it now for ages
and once it looked just fine

Perhaps it should have found its way
to firewood long ago
But we like it in our garden
and are loathe for that, you know

It’s got a certain presence
‘Je ne sais quoi’, we’d say
So until it actually falls apart
it has a place to stay

©Jemverse

Photo – Jempics

Precious

Not for me a diamond
or something made of gold
For I can find my treasure
in memories of old
Just walking through the harbour
where I wandered as a boy
has value beyond measure
and instils in me a joy

That history has substance
intangible maybe
But one which stores a value
which is firmly part of me
The pleasure of a memory
a recollection there
is as precious as a pot of gold
and one I’ll always share

Nostalgia is a precious thing
no one can take away
It can never be devalued
and will be there, come what may
But treasured though the past may be
it always takes a bow
to the forming of new memories
from the present, here and now

©Jemverse

Photo – the old fisherman’s beach, Albion Street, Southwick (West Sussex, UK). Now filled in with rubble and concrete to form a car park for the harbour master’s office.

Day 16 in the ‘Blogging from A-Z challenge

The whimsy of treasured memories

Closeted in the cupboards of minds
and kept for a rainy day
memories of the halcyon times
Dreams are filed away

Days from childhood, days from youth
retained to often share
many things taken save for these
All kept and treasured there

A sacrosanct trove of happiness
as the years pass swiftly by
brought out and dusted down when we
with whimsy breathe a sigh

©Jemverse

Sleep

Burning quietly in the night
a single flame flickered
reminding me in its yellow glow
of a distant place
where memories linger
soft in the warm whimsy
of a cathartic embrace.
And, cocooned in this
delicious sequence
the dove-cote doors of sleep
carried me gently away

©Jemverse

Just Walking

nineteen

Comfort of the ever moving sea
Always waiting there for me
Removes the cobwebs, keeps me free
Just walking on the beach

Familiar the shingle there
Finding things to keep and share
The crunching sound beyond compare
Just walking on the beach

Sunsets on an ebbing tide
Crossing sands remote and wide
Memories there that will abide
Just walking on the beach

©Jemverse

Conkers

I’d turn back time
(If only I could)
For I’ve a bag full of conkers
which I found in the wood
Recalling the days
of muddied scuffed knees
Long days in the sunshine
and the climbing of trees

‘Borrowing’ a skewer
from the kitchen drawer
when stringed conkers in pocket
was what life was for
We threw sticks to the branches
to see what would fall
and the thrill of the find
was just part of it all

The ‘fallers’ were rare
but we searched just the same
Always out in the woods
when the autumn time came
But that art has been lost
for today on the ground
There were hundreds of conkers
just lying around

And the only boy there
was the one in my mind
As it re-lived the days
that time tries to find
I-phones replace conkers
Imagination consumed
And simple pleasures like this
could well now be doomed

Yet all is not lost
For the conkers remain
for collecting by me
every year just the same
As now they are used
to keep spiders away
And as happy reminders
of a halcyon day

©Jemverse

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