This poem of mine was included in the anthology Aged to Perfection published by Age Cymru for the 2010 Gwanwyn Festival.
They are playing our song,
she said with a sigh.
I smiled; squeezed her arm.
I didn’t want to shatter
the illusion.
Convinced she was wrong,
I thought a white lie
wouldn’t do any harm
but wished for a better
solution.
From the ravages of time
nobody is immune.
The mind will play tricks,
confound and addle
the brain.
Then I was in my prime.
I'd remember a tune,
but now nothing clicks
and I am in a muddle
about this refrain.
I now see she was right
in her recollection;
I misread the situation
and must make amends,
with regret.
I get a terrible fright
at my own imperfection:
I’m hit by the revelation
that it is me who tends
to forget.
© Luigi Pagano

Comments
Highhat | October 28, 2010 - 12:30
A sweet poem about what time does to your memory. Brilliantly simple
;)Pia
luigi_pagano | October 28, 2010 - 12:37
Thank you Pia.
Luigi x
spicerlife | October 28, 2010 - 14:12
Liked it, very poignant.
luigi_pagano | October 28, 2010 - 14:52
Nice meeting you spicerlife. I am glad you found this to your liking and thank you for letting me know.
shoe | October 28, 2010 - 16:07
It has a sweetness but also a sadness, lovely.
luigi_pagano | October 28, 2010 - 17:10
Shirley, all the stories and poems in this anthology were written by older members of writing groups around Wales who were asked how they viewed growing old. Many stories were upbeat but I chose to highlight the aspect of people with failing memory, which sadly is a fact of life for some people.
Incidentally this anthology, of which 350 copies were printed, was not for sale but freely distributed to be read and passed on. I was glad to contribute to this venture.
It was nice to hear your views and I thank you.
Luigi x
Silver Spun Sand | October 28, 2010 - 18:07
Dear Luigi, your contribution to this anthology must surely have been one of its highlights...as you quite rightly say, failing memory is such an unfortunate part of growing old for so many people.
And I don't mean just going to a cupboard and forgetting what we went there for; I guess most of us do that, me more than most;-)
When much of the past is obliterated from people's minds, it is so cruel; something I saw in my own mother from the age of 50, sadly.
I enjoyed your poem immensely, as always and I would imagine the anthology is well dog-eared by now;-)
Tina xxx
Silver Spun Sand | October 28, 2010 - 20:19
I shall certainly follow its progress, Luigi. Thanks so much for leaving the link which I shall look forward to utilising tomorrow.
Hubby's name's Stuart, by the way and he sends his warmest regards to you, incidentally;-)
Tina xxx
luigi_pagano | October 29, 2010 - 14:28
Copies of the anthology, Tina, are going round the world and perhaps they are not static enough to get dog-eared. If you are interested you can follow their progress Here.
I haven't quite reached the point of going to the cupboard and forgetting the reason I went there but I found that it takes me some time to remember somebody's name.
Always a pleasure to hear from you. Kind regards to you and your husband (and to prove my point, I have forgotten his name).
Love, Luigi xxx
fatboy74 | October 31, 2010 - 11:25
A very, very good poem. Congrats on cherry.
luigi_pagano | October 31, 2010 - 11:45
Many thanks for your kind words, fatboy74.
I just had a peep at your poem 'Venice With Emma' and found it excellent. I'll have to go back to it and write a comment.
Best, Luigi.