Once upon a time, Can't remember when, Way back there, Way back when, Someone told me something, Can't remember who, Can't remember what it was, But if I ever do, I'll write it on a thingum And put it somewhere safe-- I think the little whatsit Would be the perfect place. I wouldn't trust the whoozit With the thingamy because, I can't remember where it is Or where it ever was. My memory is excellent; It's never failed me yet. The only things it can't recall Are things that I forget. --Charles Wilkins
of that kiss
still rocks me
Do you ever
think about it?
**This is in response to Sue Vincent’s #writephoto prompt. You can find out all about the fun on her page HERE.
Climb the wall
Roses cling tight
And chipped wishes
Tomorrows left behind
Windows of promise
Copyright © 2018 Penny Wilson
**Sue has given us another gorgeous photo as a prompt this week. This one is called Blue. You can read all about Sue’s Thursday #writephoto prompts HERE. Have fun!
A sky alight with your spirit.
The exact blue of your eyes.
The hue envelopes all.
You warm the fading light.
Your spirit here,
Beside me as I walk.
With me now,
Forever in my heart.
Copyright © 2017 Penny Wilson
The exhaustion overwhelms me.
The search, never ending.
Once, you were at my fingertips, but slipped away.
I found you in a smile, or so I thought.
My illusions tease me.
The image like waves on asphalt in summer.
Your voice whispers in the shadows, waking me from slumber.
The breeze will carry a scent of you that I pursue.
The touch, I miss the most.
I started to NOT post this. I thought it was sad. But missing loved ones is sad I suppose. I’m happy that she is always a part of my life. For my Mom.
The walls are permeated with the laughter and tears once shared.
I fill the room as best I can with today’s sunlight.
I open the window, but the breeze does not sweep away the past.
A life once lived clings tightly.
My fingers touch a picture frame.
Frozen in time, you cradle a child.
I can feel the love in the smile on your lips.
Your fingers gently brush the hair from my face.
Behind my eyes, I’m swept away.
I am once again, safe. Warm. Loved.
You always smelled of lilacs.
Today, your memory is as vivid as yesterday.
Other times, your face is but a faded shape in the mist.
You are always with me, a part of me.
Copyright (C) 2017 Penny Wilson