Amongst The Memories
By skinner_jennifer
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Dear diary...Amongst all
those young recollections
of diverse friendships,
now I have only memories
that bind us.
Words in a poem are linked
by flavours – aromas – musical
sounds and that all important
ingredients: Peace, Love and
Happiness.
Come knowing scattered
voices, reminisce foraging
summer's feast, blending
whispers while harvesting
nature's essence of peace;
those significant moments
resembling clutch of herbs,
gathering combinations with
touch of love; in other
words...
capturing unhurried
reflections, companions
diverse; vividly recall
swirling aromas of
flavour that allures,
memories that carried us;
sustaining spirit when we
were young, life filled with
challenges; disapproving
frowns from dad and mum.
Despite criticism we traveled
far and wide; found festivals
of music, those events where
potent happiness was alive.
Although I've now grown
older, shed young skin
retained close by,
musing now in poetry;
keepsakes remain like
a token to apply.
Pixabay free to use image.
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Comments
"musings now in poetry.."
"musings now in poetry.." "Yes, as we get older we end up valuing memories more. Referencing them in poems is as good a way as any to preserve moments for posterity. Deftly done with an articulate, light touch. Paul :)
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we've all (well, most of us)
we've all (well, most of us) shed young skin. your poetry remains young.
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I like the way you've woven
I like the way you've woven your adventures in the sensory experience; aromas, sounds, 'resembling a clutch of herbs'. Our brains seem to hang onto the sensory memories with astonishing accuracy, a song or the scent of a perfume acting as a time travelling machine. 'Disapproving frowns from mum and dad', yes I remember that stifling feelingall too well.
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Your diary is a rich seam of
Your diary is a rich seam of golden memories to treasure Jenny
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A bit like marandina's
A bit like marandina's thoughts in 'Life through a prism'.
Poor Mum and Dad! They were probably struggling to give wise advice, and not be too worried.
Rhiannon
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this made me think of
this made me think of special days' memories being like collecting lavender and rosepetals to put in drawers, so sweet and fresh and "potent" as you say, that, long after, clothes of today are scented, by them. Again, you have evoked such a feeling of richness, life enjoyed to its utmost, not a precious second wasted.
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Fun and my parent's shocked disapproval ah yes
Fun and your parent's shocked disapproval., ah yes.
When I was 19 my flatshare was only 5 miles deeper into London and I came home to Wembley Park for Sunday lunch. Mum and Dad wanted to know all about my new job as a trainee tax collector.
'Well' I said 'the people are all right but I don't think they have much imagination.'
'Imagination!' said Dad 'that's for weekends.'
The poor git thought he had failed as a Dad. I had only been in the job one week.
Nine weeks later I had handed in my notice and quit.
I always enjoy you writing, Jenny, lots of common ground. All the best xxxRach
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It's wonderful how aromas can
It's wonderful how aromas can bring back memories. You delineate this admirably, Jenny !!!
hilary
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HI Jenny
HI Jenny
This is a beautiful peom - full of memories and beautiful descriptions.
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