Memories of Lucinda

(A lone voice whispers) There's a hidden secret room I go to In my cathedral of dreams Whenever I sleep Where a white candle burns In The Great In-Between As Yesterday lives wild Fed on memories and crawl the broken walls While favourite ones stand up tall And in amongst the grey clutches of Yesterday There in the middle Amongst the cobwebs and ivy The weeds and bits of creeping moss Is my old shrine To all I've once lost A long time ago As white as snow But now grey It shines and gleams As Yesterday Crawls up the walls Like a banshee Wearing a black shawl In its centre Made of now dull silver On its table Is a black and white picture left by Yesterday For me to remember My only love Lost in December And as I pause And Yesterday Feeding on memories Stop's climbing the walls I hear her sweet husky voice over the top of my beating heart It breaches the weed filled nooks and crannies Cools my fast flowing bloodstream Then in that moment climbing through the atoms of that sparse air Comes her perfume drifting From somewhere A much loved fragrance from the past Filled with sweet moments as I remember and prayed would last Then Yesterday moves And the scent is gone The voice disappears And in that room of no living creature Where I sometimes appear To remember Yesterday's memories Which I hold dear That white candle burns Brighter each year On the 28 of December When I return to remember My beloved Lucinda Who I lost One fatal day in winter (C) Copyright John Duffy