eyes

[gingerjon]

Eyes
Through my eyes I see pictures of the past
They recall memories I thought would not last
And as we talk, it's just as if we are still there
Of days that were full of joy and no fear
Of times that seem to have happened yesterday
The sun shining bright on fields of new mown hay
Away from cobbled streets for a day in the park
To return on the number six tram before it got dark
We ramble on of days that have since long gone
Of old stories and recollections for every one
Most people are like this you will find
For after all we are all of the same kind.

 

[Robert Harrison]

LIKE BOLT HOLES IN THE MIND, BACK TO A TIME THAT NEVER AGES.
WE SEE OURSELVES AS WE WERE, BUT ONLY THE GOOD.

BOB H

 

[Beryl M]

You stir my imagination John . . .

With great flourishes of pen,
Staining paper in black.
Words arranged to give,
Meanings to feelings
Touched inside the heart.

The poet paints verses
Then stands back and looks on.
From a distance at the pictures.
In the mists of the ended dreams,
Beckoning, calling from within,

The rain, splattering a million drops
Into the expanse of the world awakening,
The singing of the birds in among the trees
The golden sun reflecting on the shores
Impaling itself on the tender morning glories.
Slowly coming back to the real world. . .