Things Long Stored
I remembered the scent
It floated on the air
Following her into the crowd.
It clung to my nose.
And sang in my blood.
Inundated my mind
Washed it with memories
Things long stored;
Of kind warm nights,
Softness of laundered sheets;
Of mother and perfumed hugs.
Those fleeting goodnight kisses
Soft from her fragrant lips.
How the light played on russet hair
And caught the mischief of her smile
As she tripped out the door
In a blaze of rustling silks,
Like Cinderella off to the ball.
Rising from the dusty warehouse of my mind
It all floods back as if yesterday,
And she long gone lives again.
P H Brookes Copyright 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
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Visions
Kaleidoscopic visions of you
Flash fleetingly or ride majestically
On the cusp of my mind
In a rush of disjointed pictures.
The stark bare bones of your life;
The sum of its days.
Its tricle of hours.
Held fast like an insect in amber
Marching to your hearts tattoo
To conjuror the past - a replay.
Half remembered conversations.
A touch, a taste and kisses
Butterfly light that tingled the soul.
Your bright eyes, soft hair.
Settling the past into focus.
A flash of colour.
That emerald green dress.
As you danced carefree and joyous
Like you skipped in and out of my life
Leaving only the echo of your laughter.
Until one day you were absent.
To become a pale memory
Leaving only secondhand images.
A faded photographs.
Living only in the memory.
Copyright P H Brookes 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
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Ode to The Scent Of Cinnamon
The heady scent of cinnamon
Upon the opening of the door
The tugging out of memories
From the mind’s musty store
The warm, soft smell of pie crust
Upon the opening of the oven
The revisiting of the memories
The huggin’ and the lovin’
The aromatic aura of apples
Baked with a crispy honeyed glaze
The remembering of the memories
Kitchen memories, happy days
The Smell of hot peach cobbler,
The tantalizing odor of allspice
The callin’ back of the memories
Kitchen memories, warm and nice
Red and white checkered aprons,
Flour dappled, love lined faces
The tearful tug of way old memories
Memorable kitchens, happy places
The heady scent of cinnamon
Upon the opening of the door
Is one of the bestest of my memories
And likely will be… forever more
Ahhh…The heady scent of cinnamon!
poem by David Whalen
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Goodnight
(orbison/dees)
My lovely woman child
I found you out running wild with someone new
Youve been untrue, and everybody knows were through
But I cant say goodbye to you, no matter what you do
My heart wont let you go, although I know you go
With someone new, I think of you
I think of how you kiss, your tenderness
With all of this, I miss the way you say goodnight
Bittersweet, your kisses, when my heart still misses
The way that things used to be, but I know youre strong for
Other arms you long for, and you can never come back to me
Not just for yesterday, tonight or tomorrow
Ah, but forever
Ill hear you say goodnight, goodnight
Goodnight turned out to be a lie
And I cant help it if I cry
Goodnight my love, sleep tight my love
Goodnight
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My House
(Paul Overstreet/Al Gore)
My house is no mansion
But it still holds my treasures
Things that will never be sold
Theres a few things in this world
That just can't be measured
By money, by silver and gold
My house is filled with the things that I love
From her smile in the mornin'
To her soft goodnight hugs
Her whisper, her laughter
Everything that she does
My house is filled with the things that I love
This old bed that we sleep on
Don't have satin covers
But it holds some great memories
No decorations can make better lovers
In her arms I feel like a king
My house is filled with the things that I love
From her smile in the mornin'
To her soft goodnight hugs
Her whisper, her laughter
Everything that she does
My house is filled with the things that l love
Yes, my house is filled with the things that I love
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Cinderella
We used to love, we used to dance.
But something happened to make the love vanish.
The dance ended as my Cinderella left me, slipping through my hands like the sands of time.
Now I'm hiding all my pain as I wonder if she's doing the same. Everyone asks if I'm fine, and that I'll move on someday, and I know this is true, but for now, I want my Cinderella back.
It hurts to think about it, no matter what I do, the dreams of the past haunt me.The laughs, smiles, hugs, dates, and kisses. They all won't leave me alone, as I keep wanting her back, nights of restless sleep for a few weeks.
I act like I'm fie, but in reality, I just want her to give me one more chance, perhaps a dance. We would dance slowly, just like before, and I would smile, because I would have my Cinderella back.
poem by Cole Troyer
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Memories in the mind
Memories are made in the mind,
and there if you search, you will find.
There in the mind, so many things,
so many memories it brings.
So many years have passed,
of our youth, away we have cast
some memories happy, some memories sad,
memories have I, when I was a lad.
Memories have I, of a dog named shep,
memories of him, when he kept in step.
Memories of my friends, when we played,
of those days, for ever memories relayed.
Memories of family and fun,
when we talked until the setting of sun.
Memories of washing our fifty-seven Ford,
and wanting things we couldn't afford.
Memories are made in the mind,
long lost, search and you will find,
memories of days gone by,
searching memories, oh how you try.
Memories will fade out,
you have forgotton, what it's about,
memories lost in the mind,
dig them out and you will find.
0197 Being in Mind
Poets seek in poems, a truth that's yet to be:
to catch those glories half-formed in the mind,
those tantalising visions which we see
for fleeting seconds; fear may never find
again; yet leave a presence in the air,
the evanescent substance of a dream,
like half-remembered, half-forgotten care,
but known to be more real than they seem;
like friendly ghosts who share our rooms awhile
and conjure memories of their treasured kind:
a scent; a taste; a light; an echoed smile
from knowledge of some farther truth in mind:
O these are angels, heralds of the whole;
a golden rain that showers the dreaming soul.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Perfume Trail
Only memories shreds remain.
A tinge of scent,
A perfume trail,
A butterfly rustle
From watered silk.
An echo of her laughter,
A reverberated memory,
Where now silence heavy lies
And solemn shadows dwell.
Her things lie where dropped
Dust draped, abandoned,
Waiting vainly for her return.
The pots and powders
That were her beauty aids
Bereft, no more needed,
For she has gone;
To lie in her deep bed
In cool funereal earth.
Copyright P H Brookes 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
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Do I Ever Cross Your Mind
Oh, sometimes I go walking through fields where we walked
Long ago in the sweet used to be
And the flowers still grow, but they don't smell as sweet
As they did when you picked them for me
And when I think of you and the love we once knew
How I wish we could go back in time
Do you ever think back on old memories like that
Or do I ever cross your mind
Oh, how often I wish that again I could kiss
Your sweet lips like I did long ago
And how often I long for those two loving arms
That once held me so gentle and close
And when I think of you and the love we once knew
How I wish we could go back in time
Do you ever recall these old memories at all
Or do I ever cross your mind
When old memories appear my eyes wont stay clear
When I think of those happier times
Do you ever recall these old memories at all
Or do I ever cross your mind
Do you ever think back on old memories like that
Or do I ever cross your mind
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Young Sons
YOUNG SONS
A mother takes down a photo
And she holds it to her breast
Just has she’d done the child it shows
The little boy she’d washed and dressed.
She remembers how his hair felt
His soft scent still fills her nose.
And one again she curses,
the path her young son chose.
With boyish smile, and happiness
he’d picked the shilling and the gun
she remembered still the fear and dread
when he told her what he’d done.
Yet she’d smiled and waved him off
as only a loving mother could
If God was good, her smiling son
would return as young son’s should.
but then fickle fate, it knows no God
it makes it’s judgments where it will
and IED’s they don’t discriminate
about who they should maim or kill.
So young son’s often come home
fulfilling all their mothers fears
not with happy smiles and laughter
But, draped in flags and mother’s tears.
poem by Bill Mitton
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My First Kiss With You
my first kiss with you
was first class
like a mabuhay seat of the Philippine Airlines
when you left
my lips did not stay closed and vacant
there were more kisses in my life
lips upon lips like
sheets and sheets of paper on top of the other
but my first kiss with you
was ever the first unequalled
and when they kiss me when i am alone and lonely
it is your kiss that sticks in my mind
first class, the rest are nothing but
second rates, second hand, and less remembered.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Goodnight Kisses
All day long I waited for this
The way you say goodnight with a passionate kiss
A kiss that drives away any thoughts of sleep
And tells me your love is mine to keep
Goodnight kisses passionate or mild
Any one of yours can drive me wild
My fatigue is replaced by wakefulness
When your lips touch mine in a goodnight kiss
Arms around each other
Lying in bed
The children are sleeping
The cat's been fed
Kissing and caressing like every other night
Your goodnight kisses just feel so right
In my sleep I dream of your kiss
How our lips together brings such bliss
And I know that there's no better way
Than a goodnight kiss to end the day
poem by Harry J. Couchon Jr
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Reversal
I remember
The taste of your
Smokey lips,
The acrid after taste,
The smell of tobacco
That clung around you
Mixed with Old Spice.
And the paper boats we made.
All the games of hide and seek.
Of catch ball.
The gentle bear hugs,
Feel of your whiskers
Which tickled my face.
Sips of tea out of your big mug,
Warm and sweet.
I remember how big you were,
How my tiny hand
Was engulfed by yours.
How you used to swing me high in the air
And brought me back down to earth
Catching me in your strong safe arms.
How you taught me to garden.
Of waiting at the gate till you came home,
How you lifted me and carried me indoors
While you'd listen to my childish prattle
As you sat me on your knee.
Made me feel special.
Taught me to be a man.
Now you lie in a too big bed
Thin, frail and weak.
Your white hair upon the pillow.
Your strong hands now twisted claws.
When did you get so small
And I so big.
Now I am the protector,
But child in me wants you back
And asks, Where did my father go?
poem by Paul Brookes
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Smell of your hair
rolling over in bed this night
I found a little hidden delight
for on the pillow I smelled your hair
making me wish that you were still there
memories of our time spent together
and how your hair tickled my nose like a feather
made me long for your joyful presence
though you've been gone for a month since
flooding my mind with your laughter and smile
still makes me wish you'd not been gone this long while
will I ever get over you? now, only time will tell
having lived through our breakup, has been total hell
even though my heart continues to billow
each time I smell your hair on your pillow
poem by Jr James D Nall
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Wanders To You
Its been so long since I slept
The good book at bedtime no longer suffices
The bottle of whiskey just one of my vices
It might help me to sleep
There you are with your golden brown skin
The sparkling pacifico catching your chin
The salt on your marguerita will stick to your lips
Lips that Id die for a fleeting stolen kiss
My mind wanders to you and things that we might do
But youre just another illusion
My mind wanders to you
You couldnt live with someone in dreamland
Toothpaste from harrods when the corner shop will do
A friend giving a lift becomes a chauffeur for two
The grandest illusions to hang on to
There you are with your golden brown skin
The sparkling pacifico catching your chin
The salt on your marguerita will stick to your lips
Lips that Id die for a fleeting stolen kiss
My mind wanders to you and things that we might do
But youre just another illusion
My mind wanders to you
Wanders to you and the things that we might do
But youre just another illusion
My mind wanders to you
(come with me)
(wander with me)
There you are with your london grey skin
The light from the streetlamp corrupting your chin
The cream from a guinness lingers on your lips
Lips that would beg for a meaningful kiss
My mind wanders to you and all that we might do
But youre just another illusion
My mind wanders to you
Wanders to you and all that we might do
But youre just another illusion
My mind wanders to you
Wanders to you
Wanders to you
song performed by by Howard Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Splendor in the grass
Come; lie with me in the grass
Of summer and feel the cool green
Blades give ground to our presence here.
Smell the white clover my dearest?
Its odoriferous fragrance
Pales by comparison with you.
Look! I see a four-leaf clover,
Though rare, it’s not as rare as you;
I picked you out amongst a crowd
And have been in love ever since.
That sun that kisses these flowers
Is not as warm as your kisses
And the warm rustling summer breeze
Lingers long about your tresses
Stilled by the jealous Aeolus
Who claims all things but you my dear.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Dulcis Memoria
Long, long ago I heard a little song,
(Ah, was it long ago, or yesterday?)
So lowly, slowly wound the tune along,
That far into my heart it found the way:
A melody consoling and endearing;
And still, in silent hours, I'm often hearing
The small, sweet song that does not die away.
Long, long ago I saw a little flower,--
(Ah, was it long ago, or yesterday?)
So fair of face and fragrant for an hour,
That something dear to me it seemed to say:
A thought of joy that blossomed into being
Without a word; and now I'm often seeing
The friendly flower that does not fade away.
Long, long ago we had a little child,--
(Ah, was it long ago, or yesterday?)
Into his mother's eyes and mine he smiled
Unconscious love; warm in our arms he lay.
An angel called! Dear heart, we could not hold him;
Yet secretly your arms and mine infold him--
Our little child who does not go away.
Long, long ago? Ah, memory, make it clear--
(It was not long ago, but yesterday,)
So little and so helpless and so dear
Let not the song be lost, the flower decay!
His voice, his waking eyes, his gentle sleeping:
The smallest things are safest in thy keeping.
Sweet memory, keep our child with us always.
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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In The Valley Of My Mind
I carry black roses
Of what that has been
Rain drops wet my floor
To many cold night
Days of unfairness
I smell her fragrant
I awake to find this
In the valley of my mind
I hear the wedding bells
I see a wedding ring
Her kisses wet my lips
I see her smiling face
I hold her to find it's
In the valley of my mind
The rain drops has dried
I'm happy I can smile
Because I realize
I can get her back
Any time I want to
In the valley of my mind
copyright ©
plublish work of Eyan Desir
poem by Eyan Desir
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I Need You
Dont need a roller or a limousine
I don't need my picture in a magazine
I don't need approval from a chosen few
Tell you what I do need, I need you
Don't need no fixtures or feelings of home
I'm so unfurnished, I'm on my own
I don't need reminding when the rent is due
Tell you what I do need, I need you
I need you like a fly needs a plane
I need you like a ball needs a game
I need you like a pool needs a cue
I need you, need you, need you, I need you
I don't need no covered kisses for company
I don't want no washed up dishes soft soapin' me
I don't need no Cinderella in high-heeled shoes
I tell you what I do need, I need you
I need you like a fly needs a plane
I need you like a ball needs a game
I need you like a shot needs to shoot
I need you, need you, need you, I need you
I need you, need you, need you, I need you
Said I want you (I need you)
I need you, need you, need you, I need you
But I want, I want you (I need you)
Yes, I need (I need you)
I need you, need you, need you, I need you
I want you, want you, want you (I need you)
song performed by by Paul Carrack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Pity.
Hear the anger of spoiled youth,
With their hard words.
They have no pity.
Spewing out their bile
To mangle and eschew.
We live with their forbearance.
We the old and frail.
Who once like them
Gloried in the sun,
Were gods in our day.
Now we moulder
Like staues left out.
Too long in the tooth
We peal and crack.
Split by iron frost.
Weathered by rain.
Worn down, tired, by
Untenable trials of life.
Ah but our inner lives,
There we live again as gods,
To glory in the sun.
P H Brookes Copyright 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
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