Buried Dreams

old photos

What I Hope

In a half forgotten corner of a mind that’s lost its way,
is she walking in a meadow, can she smell the new mown hay?
Does she feel the summer sunshine on her smooth and youthful skin?
Does she know once more the joyful bliss of being there with him?
Can she hear the skylark singing high above them in the sky,
feel again his tender kisses, hear her own soft breathless sigh?
Is she dreaming of strong arms that clasped her warm against his breast,
hearing promises of golden years with which they would be blessed?

Reality

In a faded shabby armchair bathed in sunset’s afterglow,
holding mono coloured photos that were taken long ago,
she struggles to identify and give to each a name,
but the memories stay hidden in the fog that shrouds her brain.
She gazes round the crowded room, this place she calls her home
and wonders how she came to be so old and all alone.
In a half forgotten corner of a mind that’s lost its way,
buried deep and gone forever, all her dreams of yesterday.

© Patricia Curtis

 

Brush Off the Dust
Starless