I remember the scent of the dew covered roses
and the glow of the rising sun.
I remember the burning of hot, white sand
on my feet as the days wore on,
but I don’t remember how long ago
and I wonder where life has gone?
Will I ever be that woman again?
Under the nurturing sun.
I remember climbing the tall chestnut tree
outside, in front of our home.
I remember digging paths in the snow,
for the dogs, when the winter would come.
But I don’t remember how it felt,
and sometimes it just makes me glum.
That I can’t go back to those childhood days,
filled with such innocent fun.
I remember the touch of skin on skin,
and the sound of a beating heart.
I remember the longing, the agony,
of lovers being apart.
But I no longer clearly remember how
or when a happy relationship starts.
Who makes the first move, who builds it up?
Is there someone who won’t depart?
I remember with colours, with longing, with scent!
I remember much more than I ought.
I remember both pain and happiness,
as I delve into long ago thoughts.
But I need to start making new memories,
need to stop saying ‘remember when?’.
Perhaps if I lose some old memories
I might be that happy again?