Ian Bowen

Far Remembered - Poem by Ian Bowen

In those crystal water days
before pollution, when bubbling springs
gushed; flooding the watercress beds
and cooling the feet of paddling children,
reliable Summers sat like a season of joy.

With shirts bulging with stolen apples
we ran the slime of frog spawn through
our seven-week, holiday fingers.

The woods dark and cool in places,
its clearings full of warming, flashlight rays.
Rolling hills became our giant cardboard slides
as wild rabbits watched from a safe distance.
Our scruffy, mongrel dogs barked
and joined in the mayhem
of freedom and innocent fun.

Below in the valley, horses delivered bread,
ice-cream men rode bikes, sweets sat in jars
and women talked over fences of
washing, prices and husbands.
The steam from trains covered the houses
like a disastrous fire, but cleared to reveal
my memories of those special days.

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Comments about Far Remembered by Ian Bowen

  • (2/2/2010 5:00:00 AM)

    It is fascinating to hear each generation talk about the past. Was life really slower, or have we slowed our memories down. Passages in this poem everybody can identify with. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Poem Edited: Monday, February 8, 2010

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