~In The Midst Of A Memory~

When the days are lonesome and long to pass

Into the midst of a memory I often drift

To a peaceful haven where I now and then dwell

Like pages of a scrapbook to which I return at will

To run a hand along the top rail of that old pasture fence

Or ramble through the wildwood and cotton fields

To visit with a loved one long since past

And reflect in a moment of wisdom in a walk hand in hand

Many memories from the past have aged well

And some are faded and tattered like old photographs

Oftentimes I journey to days of old nevertheless

To relive a moment of serenity in happier times

To stop and smell the flowers long-side the dusty dirt road

Or saunter amid the bramble of a wild country rose

And perchance to pause and delight in the breeze

Underneath a corridor of Autumn's rustling leaves

Gentle reminders are faithful to befall me lest I forget

The sound of summer raindrops pelting atop a tin roof

And never has an encore sounded so sweet

As the revel of children’s laughter resounding from that old tire swing

Through the lace work of the past I find my way now and again

To the fireside of many a longed for friend

When for the antiquity of yesteryear I yearn

I relive in the nostalgia of the good old days

For where else can one find such an availing peace

Than a place where brand new harvests are sewn every spring

Where the echo of "Come to supper!" catches my ear

For a taste of the good times I run along to savor once more

Many days have come and long since gone

But they are only a short journey from where I must come

Sweet reminiscence is the keepsake by which I recall

Cherished memories which have withstood the test of time

In relics of yesteryear I have found my wealth

Not in what tomorrow may hold

 But what I have already held

For not one treasure shall the future promise to unfold

But the past abounds with riches untold

In joyful recollections from my ventures I rest

And linger a little longer in a memories midst

Such a keepsake as a memory I shall forever hold dear

For where else but a memory can life be lived once more.

Paige Gray 

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