candy coloured twists and twirls
little wicks charred and curled
melted wax holding fast
to memories of birthdays past
candles in a box by Graham Seal
Image from Pixabay
Tag Archives: memories
An Album of Yesterdays by Celia Berrell
Leave a commentAn Album of Yesterdays
I caught a piece of yesterday
to share with you today.
It’s clinging to a memory
of how we laugh and play.
I know that piece of yesterday
will never go astray.
It’s squashed inside a heavy book.
That’s where it’s going to stay.
Tomorrow, when I’m old and grey
I’ll still remember yesterday
and how we used to play and laugh.
Because … I have our photograph!
Celia Berrell
Celia said: Personal pictures and photos have an almost magical connection with our memories and emotions. And some become more precious as the Yesterdays slip by! Do you treasure your analogue or digital album of Yesterdays?
Poem of the Day
Leave a commentYellow Letters
When my grandad passed away
We found beneath the floor
A beat up, sturdy wooden box
We’d never seen before
The reason that we found it
Was a floor board out of place
It was sticking out and I tripped up
And landed on my face
I could tell it was important
And I removed it with great care
Grandad loved us all so much
What would he hide down there?
Mum looked surprised as I was
As she opened up the lid
Slowly then, her tears rolled down
As she found out what he hid
Her face had turned from flush to pale
As though she’d seen a ghost
So many yellowed envelopes
He never meant to post.
Mum said that Grandad never wrote
While serving in the war
And all these papers sitting here
She’d never seen before
We sat and read together
Sharing tears and love as well
My grandad never wrote of war
As it was nothing short of hell
He couldn’t say the words out loud
But these letters had ensured
That maybe one day later
We would know what he’d endured
We placed them back into the box
And closed the lid up tight
I felt my grandad was at peace
When I fell asleep that night
For though he never posted them
Those letters got him through
For the final one said ‘War is done!
I’m coming home to you’
Sioban Timmer
- Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #12
Sioban said: I just recently received copies of my Grandad’s war medals and have a special box to place them in, I think that put the idea to the front of my mind.
Poem of the Day
Leave a commentMemories
The bottle on the beach was green,
In the most beautiful tint I have seen.
But other bottles from my past
Were mostly white.
The empties waited at the gate in a crate.
When the milkman was late,
I’d wait at the gate till he arrived.
The Milkie came with a loaded horse-pulled cart.
He’d run beside it as the horse moved slow
And he moved fast.
My mother would send me out with a shovel
After he’d gone, to collect the manure
For her roses, hydrangeas, and fuchsias
Whose blooms were so full and wide,
They leaned against
The fence like fat ladies dressed in coloured ball gowns.
The bottles were smaller at school,
With strawberry and chocolate flavoured straws
For the lucky ones,
Who would let me have them when
They were finished.
I’d save them in my desk for the next day.
But I was always grateful
To just suck the milk from the bottle,
Even on hot summer days
When it had waited too long in the sun
For playtime to come around.
Those innocent days are all gone.
Like sand at the beach
They got swept out to sea,
To be brought back again to land on the tide.
My memories will always call back
Days with white bottles that sparkled
With the morning light, and tinted green
Ones found submerged on the beach
During Sunday School picnics.
Anastasia Gonis ©
- Submitted in response to Poetry Prompt #7
Anastasia said: I thought this picture inspiring. As you can see, it created a daisy chain of memories together with the smell of the horse manure I’d collect for my mother as a child. I can recall the clink of bottles and the sound of the horses’ hooves on the bitumen.
Australian Children’s Poetry 