Saturday, April 2, 2016

Memories of long ago


She had that rare grace
Stunning looks and eyes just for me
I kidded myself

Empty headed boy 
I was all those years ago
Endless years of youth

Best I ever did
Was to walk her to her bus
For a few brief months

We'd speak of little
A few threads of conversation
Our shy teenage talk

Yes, I did kiss her
Her eyes shone with such pleasure
Witnessed by no one

Still think of her now
Erotic thoughts of old age
The "what ifs" of life

The root problem is
Does she still think well of me?
To feed my ego

I do claim one thing
That she hummed with such pleasure
Those days that we kissed

And as I write this
Hope that a message of love
Now gets through to her

Image found at www.45.ownskin.com


10 comments:

  1. Old Egg, I bow to you for your beautiful, nostalgic and poignant poem, for making the wordle words disappear in the sense of it, and for reminding me of an encounter more than 60 years ago.

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  2. We can only hope...a passionate and vibrant poem - celebrating the good things in life :)

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  3. Reading this sent my mind back more years than I normally care to remember. I wonder what happened to her? Thanks for reminding me (or not!)

    Nothing ventured....

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  4. I love the bit about her humming with pleasure during the days she was kissed. This is a good one, OE. I hope that love continues to stir for all of us, and keeps us humming!

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  5. This is so stunningly and beautifully nostalgic that I barely dare to comment! Well done - as I remember (from long ago) - your poetry always being!

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  6. This is so sweet, sensitive and nostalgic that it has me thinking back to those walks, those shy teenage talks, those kisses.... ;-)

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    1. You have all of us remembering those long ago shy kisses. And perhaps wondering as well,

      Elizabeth

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  7. I agree with all of these comments but especially Viv's ... you've written a poem that weaves the wordles words so skillfully, they disappear. Glorious.

    http://soundofthewordnight.blogspot.ca/2016/04/rare-days-and-grace.html

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  8. I was so caught up in this poem, I didn't think about the prompt. I think we all have many "what ifs" in our lives.

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  9. Nice.

    I felt the touch, the kiss, the fleetingness. The reminiscence, the longing, the adolescent fear of rejection, and the adult humming acknowledgement of joy of relationship no matter how slight or short lived.

    She remembers.
    Randy

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