I looked across the valley
To view the town of my birth
The church stood above the rest
As the bells chimed a welcome
To entice us from our homes
The soothing sounds of childhood
The mad tunes of foolish youth
Seduced by albums design
Which came from grooves of vinyl
Now play lists are on the phone
We all have a use by date
When our final days come round
Our footprints in shifting sand
Are then blown into the void
Gone our plethora of days
Once we were an eager sponge
Soaking up lifes rich bounty
One day we find journey's end
All the riches we gathered
None but memory remain
Image found at www.thetimes.co.uk
Such a wistful poem - I really got swept along in the memory
ReplyDeleteBut memories can be so delightful! "We can't go home again" – but in memory we can. So let us be glad we don't look like getting dementia, you and I, and keep enjoying each remaining step of the journey. :)
ReplyDeleteHow wonderful to have been born in a valley, Robin, and to be able to return to it barely changed, if only in memory. I can really identify with the lines:
ReplyDelete'The soothing sounds of childhood
The mad tunes of foolish youth
Seduced by albums design
Which came from grooves of vinyl'.
So much has changed since the past few decades hasn't it.. I still remember playing cassettes and listening to the radio once in a while sigh.. in the end memories are only thing that remain.
ReplyDeleteOh my -- we all do have a 'use by date,' but we don't know what it is. It is probably best that we don't!
ReplyDeleteSo much changes during a lifetime... so amazing when you are coming closer to the end to see it all... I still keep my albums though
ReplyDeleteYes, you nailed it in this one!!! In the end all that remains are memeories.
ReplyDelete"We all have a use by date" Wow! What an inference that we all can relate to from our life as consumers. I plan to keep on trucking, making new memories and reliving old ones until the very end. I like the sounds and sights that accompany this revelation.
ReplyDeleteExpiry dates for all of us are on the horizon.Sobering thoughts about being expendable. The eskimos use to put the old folk on an ice floe and float them out to sea. At least that is not an option....not yet anyway?
ReplyDeleteYou took me back to my own childhood valley, the church bells, the simpler times. I am feeling the press of time as well, my friend. There are amazing memories.........thank you for this beautiful poem....for all of your beautiful poems.
ReplyDeleteThe staza, "We all have a use by date
ReplyDeleteWhen our final days come round
Our footprints in shifting sand
Are then blown into the void
Gone our plethora of days"
is my favorite. This poem pulled at me. I have these thoughts. One day even the memory will not remain. Excellent write!
Oh, I wonder about my expiration date... At least I feel I'm living in the prime before the prune.
ReplyDeleteOne day we find journey's end
ReplyDeleteAll the riches we gathered
None but memory remain
Thus how the rat race comes to an unheralded conclusion for all the tears and efforts through the years! Very nostalgic take, Robin!
Hank
A poignant piece ... the approach to 'journey's end': eloquently expressed. Wonderfully drawn. Beautiful words. I simply loved this poem!
ReplyDeleteLuv the sponge image soakibg up life. And those bells they do have a way of causing one to stop no matter accustimed to hearing them
ReplyDeletemuch💝love
i was once too, as a foolish youth, seduced by album designs and vinyl music. :)
ReplyDeletethis is such a wonderfully evocative poem.
I feel a melancholy here because I am there too. The sound of the church bell is reassuring.
ReplyDeleteThis is such a beautiful poem.
ReplyDelete(My laptop didn't let me complete my comment.)
ReplyDeleteAnyway, just wanted to say how much I enjoyed this. I think it's a superb description of the later stage of life, when values change and, if we're lucky we realize what is important. We also cherish our memories. Beautiful.
The melancholy arising here is very touching.
ReplyDeleteBut the memory is all?
ReplyDeleteI'm not fond of contemplating my "use-by date." Any reminder of my mortality is most unwelcome.
ReplyDelete