I walk down the small path
bordered either side by bluebells.
As I walk down the path
which I have done hundreds of times before.
There is a stirring in the trees,
which prompts my memories,
of faces that have come and gone
over the passing years.
Also comes back the laughter
that never seems to subside
and all the jokes
we’ve played on one another.
I smiled as I stopped for a moment
to look around at everything there.
It seems like only yesterday
that I came along here,
but in reality, the years have flown by.
Some faces I remember
will never be coming back to visit,
while the others I might see someday.
Even when the sad day comes
when I can’t come anymore.
I will leave with many photographs
in my memory store.
A few more steps I take
and the town comes into view
along with friendly faces
on the boardwalks there.
There are a few whose names I forget,
but the faces I know so well
in this little town
I call my home away from home.
15 February 2008
I'm afraid the older we get the more nostalgic we get, but that's alright living old times again in our minds... Andy 10
Such a pleasant poem David, and so nice to read my friend. Thank you lots. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX
David I loved the gentle rhythm of this poem. I know this feeling, of journeying down a path where every step ahead, brings memories of the past. Cheers Anita
Just think if your never had that home away from home...you would have a rather large empty spot in your memory store...the good times and the bad times are there for you to reflect on many times and more
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful nostalgic piece of writing David, the imagry is lovely, you really took me into the poem here and I appreciate the experience. Melvina