Once Upon a Time
All the days have come and gone,
leaving an oily film on my thoughts
And a brackish taste in my mouth.
Tired now and cold,
I dream of colours I have not seen for years.
A scrapbook of pictures
That flow through time.
A collection of records,
A musical diary of moments.
A long lost object,
Found in a long forgotten draw.
That is touched and creates too vivid a memory,
So is returned to wait for another place and time.
All the days have come and gone,
And leave me in sepia tinted remembrance,
Of ice creams long eaten.
And songs that are played no more.
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