A treasure chest of cherished moments.
A box full of wanton, wasted time,
Those precious poems of time written into life,
All altered now by age and changing rhyme.
ink fades away as faces fade to ashen grey,
so smiles and words must be enough for then
Evoking images and memories of moments
lived and lost
Made magic by the craft of camera lens.
The days we had, those days of celebration
And those casual days cherished all the more
throw away moments forever frozen in still frames
and so made more precious for their simplicity adored.
The treasured and the timeless
and other distant days now past recall
encased in clear covers of cracking cellophane,
To never hang in frames along the hall.
that girl, that boy all altered now
by time and age that passed apace
caught for a mere moment long ago
that immortalised a sunny smiling face.
Memories of behaving for the camera
Communions and those Conformation days
suits, so fashionable in that fickle moment
now relics of a forgotten fashion craze.
Emblazoned emblems of a time
Brief and now long lost
life lived and time now wasted
all spent away then either right or wrong
all returned now to their box and their cellophane.
All the memories and the joy and pain.
The ones lost to life, or merely lost to love.
Safe now until I draw them out again
All stowed now and trapped forever
In the frozen moments that appear
my safety and my shield against the loss of memory
and the slow turning of the passing years
© Dave Kavanagh @ daithiocaomanaigh.com