Scrap Book Of Memories

My childhood recollections

Remembering

Photo is my own Dry and still is the day as I slowly slip away, coaxing leaves that crunch beneath my boots, damp air convinces me it's early morning...

Back Then

Photo is my own. As kids we measured each moment in the yawning of nightfall, when nocturnal sleep would carry me peacefully into dreaming of...

Beetle Verses Elm

Late 70s flourish of trees once majestic, stolen by affliction – disease snatched life, trunks lay shipwrecked, earth shuddered a while where once...

Man With A Plan

Sometimes out of bad situations new conditions can arise – like a phoenix from out of ashes lifts, darkness can be replaced by wink of light. Dad...

On The Road Again

Photo is my own. Does anyone remember the journey down to Cornwall from Bristol on an August bank holiday from about 1965? Because I do. This is just...
Gold cherry

Christmas Kindness

With the stimulating fragrance of spicy candles, I was struck by how clear recollections of that perfect Christmas burst into my memory. Like an...
Cherry

Two Little Treasures

Ambling through woods at Stanton Park two little girls best friends catch our eyes, all dolled up they were like princesses in long satin dresses. “...

Like Sun And Moon

Just turned eighteen or so 1973 old trusty diary tells her so, wore brown tea shirt with yellow butterfly motif that day with her usual black...
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Walking With North Wind

North wind Piercing eyes Penetrating till Tears flow, Whistling in My ears like Tortured souls, Hurtling at Great speed Driving me on, Biting this...

Snap Shot

Nostalgic wisps of former days as bobbing boats flock like sheep, photo flash left blemish colours happy accident bathed in red, many individuals...
Cherry

Dear Mum,

Sitting in the garden, the brief memory of your voice echoes through trees, carried on happy breezes that cool the spirit. Recollections come...
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Letter To My Younger Self

Dear Eleven year old me, so clear a scene like out of a movie I find myself gazing at you back in the corridor of my old Victorian school, a shy...
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Gold cherry
Poem of the week

Swathed In Nature's Beauty

Remembering that sense of mystery, recalling woodland swathed in wild childhood memory; amid flowing passage of time, wondering if trill congregation...
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