Driving down the back roads of our hearts history
Winding through the threads of memories strings
Looking for that something I’ve lost track of
Wishing for the feeling that it brings
There’s the café where we first ate dinner
The movie house where I held your hand
Ice cream’s still for sale at July’s Drugstore
Though the Drive Ins not there anymore
There’s the park bench where we first kissed
I shook so bad I almost missed your lips
There’s our old high school skating rink
Man, which sure can make me stop and think
There’s the chapel where we said we’d love forever
Close by the cheap hotel where we made love
Our old apartment building on the main street
So cold I used to have to warm your feet
I wish this place didn’t hold such sweet memories
Sometimes I wish the town would disappear
Driving back-road memories all alone without you
Threads keep breaking no matter what I do.
I too only have memories left of my Tom. Found a note in his handwriting today as unpacked from the move. Very touching indeed and his way of letting me know he was with me all the way while alive.
Reviewed by D May (Reader)
Reviewed on February 21, 2005
Felix--the images here ae wonderful. I love this, truly love this. Thank you for sharing it. : )
Tender and real, touching and blissful, Felix. Painful to relive the times without the person who created them with you, but good to know the beauty and love that the experiences sowed into your present life to make you who you are today: sensitive and caring - and one who imparts the knowledge and experience of what it means to love deeply. "Better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved - or been loved - at all". Pain can be almost a beautiful and healing thing in itself, I think. LOL Kate xx
Felix - I'm with you on the memory trips, and how they drain you. These are good words, graphic, honest, warm and loving. It is a journey we take alone - perhaps, until we meet another - with whom we feel comfortable and close - in another way. - Cheers, Old Man! - Bill
Reviewed by karen beecher (Reader)
Reviewed on February 20, 2005
Those bitter sweet memories. Whether remembering alone or together they are a thing of our past which we carry in our hearts and minds through the rest of our lives. We have to suffer the pain along with the happiness, it is just a way of life. Very well written. Karen
A melancholy write, Felix. It is never easy to relive memories that mean so much and not be able to share them with the person you made them with. This poem cuts like a knife and leaves the sting of a broken heart still worn upon the sleeve.
Take care,
Sherry
A further collection of poems, many from years in the Middle East, but also the California San Francisco and Central Coast areas (Santa Cruz, Carmel, Big Sur, Berkeley, etc.).
From the author of Jupiter Remembered and Until It’s Time: Embracing Life In Our Later Years comes Petals of Love: Poetry of a Woman’s Soul – a heartfelt collection spanning more than thirty-five years. Through tender reflections, these poems offer g
Using Calgary as a backdrop the author satirizes the self-serving nature of the public as it continues to fatten itself, not only physically, but egotistically as well.
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a very heavyhearted but beautiful pen ...
Take care,
Sherry