My Scrapbook Of Memories Poem by Nenia Arnaiz Dulom

In my old scrapbook,
I found your photos,
You look so pretty
In your pink culottes.

I can’t help but smile
As I turn the pages,
Our youthful looks
Bring back many stories.

Those glorious days
Of our jovial childhood,
Nothing left today
But our old pictures.

Each single thought
That runs through my head,
Talks about you and me
While we frolicked with glee.

I learned so early
The joy that friendship brings,
Through the pleasure you brought,
In the times of our youth.

Really pictures speak
A thousand and one words,
They carry us back
Where we traveled before.

There are chronicles
We’ve planned and predicted
But there are also records
Of regret and guilt.

Each life’s account
Should have a footnote,
To serve as lesson
To progress and improve.

So when I see these photos
I understand the worth,
Of the former way of life
Against contemporary times.

It is there imprinted
In every captured sketch,
Of facial expression and feature
Or of aplomb pose and candid posture.

Now I cherished and valued
Each depiction of life’s truth,
Yesterday and today, or even tomorrow to behold;
Thus I bless the memories behind your photos.


(August 22, 2011)