Post by Matt James on Apr 16, 2009 13:02:01 GMT
Bygone Memories
I remember the pillbox, the pouch and the bike,
The chest puffed out proudly; we’ve not seen the like
Of the telegram boy from the telephone co .
For it seems like an age – where do memories go?
I remember those tears, uncontrollable joy
At the news brought along by the telegram boy;
I remember those tears which tore good souls apart,
The loss of a loved one which broke the sad heart .
I remember the power to impart news of such
Impaction on others, the heart – strings to touch;
Those mem’ries live on and for me shall not die
For that telegram boy in the pillbox was I.
By
Ian.C.Gray
Wollaton, Nottingham
I remember the pillbox, the pouch and the bike,
The chest puffed out proudly; we’ve not seen the like
Of the telegram boy from the telephone co .
For it seems like an age – where do memories go?
I remember those tears, uncontrollable joy
At the news brought along by the telegram boy;
I remember those tears which tore good souls apart,
The loss of a loved one which broke the sad heart .
I remember the power to impart news of such
Impaction on others, the heart – strings to touch;
Those mem’ries live on and for me shall not die
For that telegram boy in the pillbox was I.
By
Ian.C.Gray
Wollaton, Nottingham