Opening the book of time
Pages engraved forever in my mind
Worn old pages all tattered and yellow
The house of my childhood
Memories twirling . . .
The smell of old wood and stained glass
French doors and a curved staircase
My little room
Overlooking the garden
The big claw foot bathtub
A lake to a child
The kitchen old and cozy with wonderful smells
Mom smiling . . .
A girl playing quietly on the front porch
Long hair in tangles and rosy cheeks
Grannie rocking and rocking
Dad busy in the garden humming a tune
Baby boy in his stroller sleeping
The hush of happiness . . .
A child's table set for tea and dolls sitting pretty
Real teapot and cracked china cups
Kitty cat asleep in the sun . . .
I walk the shady street of memory
The big hill where I rode my bike
At the end of the street
A park lush and still green
Where water lilies float
And white swans drift . . .
Down the street
The old church with its big doors open
I enter the gloom of my mind
Sweet the smell of candles flickering
The memories flood back . . .
All the worn old pages
All tattered and yellowed with age
I open the book of time . . .
August 2, 2013
For the contest, Good Poems Only, Nathan A.