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Past Times by James Bradley
 

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  • Fleeting shadow-memories slip, wraith-like o'er my mind
    of people, places, special times that, now, are far behind
    half remembered conversations, from balmy sleepless nights
    and the madness fuelled emotion, in heated verbal fights

    A nigh forgotten face returns, seen through the veil of years
    mainly happy, sometimes stern, but ne'er filled with tears
    different places, different times, each with their tale to tell
    of times when I soared to the heights, or sometimes, where I fell

    Sometimes a smell, maybe a touch, or even just a look
    detailing every turn I made and every step I took
    recording all I ever gave and all that I received
    noting each direction, in this life I've weaved

    Mistakes I made, what I achieved, comes back for just a while
    and what I worried over then, now just makes me smile
    on what I thought I always knew, I now may have to guess
    as time and distance seem to make my wisdom, somehow less

    Though now I may know more, than when I first arrived
    much of what I've learned, has already died
    the age that lies within my bones is still yet, undefined
    for I'm as young as ever, (at least within my mind)

    The goals and dreams I cherished, have not yet gone away
    but simply wait 'in storage', for another day
    while I try to remember, but find myself resigned
    to fleeting shadow-memories that slip, wraith-like, o'er my mind.
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