Jim French

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In The Time Of My Dying - Poem by Jim French

In the time of my dying
I saw many things
I felt my memories
form into a mass
of life before

I saw mum and dad
As young
In a long time ago
Christmas morning
When I got the train set I longed for

I felt my first tear
fall from my face
As my dog was hit by the car
and I held his lead in my hand
I felt my first guilt

I felt the sun
shine on my face
through my closed eye lids
As I breathed in the salt aroma
of my first time at the beach

I felt the music assault
my senses in ear and chest
at my first gig
wishing it was Pink Floyd
instead of a Flock of Sea Gulls

I remember the first time
I saw your face
And knew then
that a heart could miss a beat.

I remember feeling the rush
of my first flight
as the plane
raced down the runway
to take off

I remember warm nights
of friends
of wine
and chat

I remember cold mornings
of getting the bus
to work
as the ice still
stuck to the windows.

I remember too much
to leave behind
I remember too much
for this moment.

I remember
people
places
love
hate
b oredom
excitement
I remember
I want more

I remember
I need more time
to relive it
I remember
I need more time
to savour
the feelings
of before
I remember
I need
more time
in my time of dying

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Comments about In The Time Of My Dying by Jim French

  • (3/10/2009 12:13:00 AM)

    Jim, I wonder if you have had an out of death experience? Even if you haven't, all your memories relate so well to your age at the time, with the images you create. The last two stanzas reiterate
    skilfully why you can't pass over yet. Karin Anderson
    (Report)Reply

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Poem Edited: Tuesday, February 24, 2009


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