Ink Scratchings

His mementoes and memories he jots down in a row

Cracked pages of parchment, in scratchy ink flow

Little gems of wisdom, opaque polished beach glass

Sit beside a box compass, of tarnished green brass

Faded picture touchingly fondled far, far too much

Her love signed on the back, with sweet x’s and such

His lips recite a poem she wrote, that he can’t forget

Life props strewn around him, like an old movie set

Smiling, he pictures them dancing on rotunda of white

The night she whispered “I love you.” held him so tight

Overlooking the seashore ‘neath soft stars and moon

Band played Lady in Red but it ended far too soon

Now his eyes grow rheumy, his finger swipes at a tear

Feebly shuts off the light and goes to sleep in his chair…