Scot Street Poem by Ray Hansell

I heard a song the other night playing on the radio
It was "A Whiter Shade of Pale" by the Procol Harum
I remember how we danced to it in the middle of the street
How I swirled you around
The way your laughter echoed in the night
How your brown hair flew around
Like a flag on a flagpole
The way your eyes smiled
As you went round and round
Me holding on to your hands
Never wanting to let you go
Those were such simple and happy times back then
But then, as we got older those simple days
Were anything but simple
What we enjoyed so much as youths, was now gone
You went your way, I went mine
Never to see each other again
But what a year it was in 1967
For a little while we had us a taste of heaven
Now, every time I hear "A Whiter Shade of Pale"
My minds drifts back to that night
When we danced in the street as the car radio played
Though I may no longer have you to hold
What I do hold is that special memory
From a very magical year
That, unlike time it will never fade away


12-6-18/RjH