Reflections. 

Memory jarred by

thoughts wandering

back,

back to a earlier time,

back

when this old man

was within the

time termed as “teens”

when the

lips of girls were

sweeter then

than could now be

in true life.

Reflections.

Back when taste

was sharper

when streets wider

and lips...

Ah, the sweet lips of

girls sweeter then

than could now be

in true life.

Back,  

back when mom was there

and chicken soup never

tasted better

nor rolled cabbage

sweeter and sourer

and the family

meals never as jovial

and the laughter

never harder.

Reflections.

Back,

back when the sweet

lips of the one girl was

sweeter then

than could now be

in true life.

Back, 

back to the memory of

the tears that

fell when

"goodbye," was said

and the parting

of the one special,

the one with sweet lips,

the one I so loved,

the one whose memory

this  old man

holds so dear.

Now,

thinking now

how lucky

this girl,

this girl with

sweet lips that

this old man so loved 

for now,

fifty-seven 

years after,

now this girl,

this girl of my memory,

this girl with sweet lips 

is still the girl

living within

the years,

within the years

termed as “teens.”

when sweet lips,

when the sweet lips

of this girl

this old man loved

in memory

were

sweeter then

than could be

now,

now in true life.