Memories of Janice

I found the box in the attic A flat, rigid white box The sort that special greetings card came in It was immediately familiar Reminding me of my first love For inside the box Carefully kept and preserved Were the love letters from Janice Scented with cheap perfume Letters full of young girls chatter About favourite pop groups and fashions And the days “must haves” Talk of adolescent love and longing Honey coated words of first love Kept in the same box as her valentines card Teenage love fondly remembered The perfume was still evocative Though faded like the memory But I could see her pretty face Framed with that fine brown hair Cut in a Bob, so it kissed her neck as she moved Her developing figure that hinted at what would be Her gentle laugh that made you turn your eyes to her The soft delicate hands that felt so good in mine That first kiss that lingered on my lips Long after we parted I smiled at the memory And wondered how her life went What kind of woman did she become? Did her aspirations bear fruit? Or did she muddle through the years like the rest of us Best not to know probably The truth might diminish the memory Of a sweet young girl