Misted Memories Poem by Frederick Nellist

My memory fading, not up to scratch
is it old age or a disease you catch
I devote my time reviewing the past
at times successful it never lasts.

If I had a key to my subconscious mind
imagine the array of pictures I'd find
My late wife, a great pleasure to know
she is still the arrow I have to my bow.

My family are close their presence a joy
quite often my imagination I'll employ
My dreams, my hopes and also my fears
at times a glimpse of the past appears.

I can vaguely recall schools I attended
The games I played and sports contended
I can't remember the bells that I rung
but still sing those songs I once sung.

I'm not unhappy my loved ones are there
they nudge my memories, plenty to spare
When it seems that I'm about to forget
They kiss my brow, this space not to let