Losing One's Marbles
It happens, by degrees. Begins with
misplacing one’s keys or indeed –
the car itself, albeit temporarily,
in Tesco’s car-park...Forgetting
what film I saw last night on TV.
It was an old one, if I recall –
a black and white job with that
vintage movie star; blonde. You know
the one I mean, but I’ll be blowed
if I can remember her name.
It’s on the tip of my tongue; as is
the title of this song, on Classic FM
as I write and, what in tarnation
did, I come to the fridge for?
Memories – elusive things. Where
do they hide when they escape us?
Do they go to warmer climes?
A south-sea island perhaps; one with
no calculators, computers or phones.
We all have times we need to be alone;
recharge our batteries. Speaking of which,
it’s come back to me now. That old actress
was Greta Garbo, of course, but as to
this tune; if I hum it – you might know it.