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

In Transit

old-wooden-door

He walked right into the wooden door
time seemed to stand so still
and then it was as if his life
was presented before him to be relived.

He first saw his beloved parents smiling
and Monty, the cocker spaniel he loved
he saw his grandfather with his snowy-white hair
then his brother stood beside him laughing
as a little boy again, at the gypsy who knocked
at the door and was trying to sell lucky white heather.

He saw his sister and her friend playing cards
in the parlour, and then his friends from school
throwing a rugby ball in his direction to catch.

Suddenly it rushed forward to his adult life
his wife, his children, the fun, and all the pain.

And then it stopped and he passed through the door

but

he never went home again.

©Joe Wilson – In Transit 2014