Yet another old memory…

Her perfume lingered in my nostrils
It reminded me of days long since gone
Of Mother making us treacle tart
And the way the sun always shone.

It didn’t of course, it was just childhood
And we like to think back to the good
Things like the sun always shining
And Mother’s delicious pud.

People then, had no central heating
In winter with fires, the house was cold still
And the water we took up to bed would freeze
Through the night on the windowsill.

Mother’s love was of course, unconditional
As was Dad’s till the day he died
And Mum dabbed on ‘Lily of the Valley’
As she stood by his coffin and cried.

So now, when a lady walks past me
Who is wearing that scent from those years
She’ll probably be a lady of advancing age
Who’s experienced those times and some tears.

And I will drift back to my childhood
But I’ll push out the parts that are bad
As I think of the fun and the love that I felt
I’ve no desire to look back and be sad.

©Joe Wilson – Yet another old memory…2015

I bet…

I bet that as a child I climbed up many trees
Sometimes in tears running home with cut knees
I’d have played with Dinky toys and Hornby trains
And jumped into puddles after pouring rains.

I bet that as a youth I was petulant and daft
And sailed down a river on a home-made raft
I’d have ridden on my bike for miles and miles
Watching all the steam trains at railway styles.

And on a rugby pitch I’d have felt right in place
Charging down the wing or lying on my face
To clubs I’d have gone for the rhythm and the blues
We’d dance through the night like we’d nothing to lose.

I bet I met a lady who would love me forever
Who’d nurture our children and make us seem clever
She’d always keep me warm on the coldest nights
And be by my side when I get these frights.

I bet these things I’ve written may have all taken place
But the end-game approaches at an ever-quicker pace
I see it is the sort of life someone like me would need
But the memories have faded like an old dried up seed.

 

©Joe Wilson – I bet…2015