A time half remembered, when nature’s clock

Was slow and measured, the cushions velvet.

Chocolate melted in my mouth, the lock

On the door dissolved. I knew the secret

Of turning rough paper and reading words

On the page; black like tiny deciphered

Ants. It was like learning private passwords.

With home I became more than enamoured.

Yet times have changed. Time changed the meaning set

On friendship, dates in a diary, drifting boats

On a lake. The distance cannot be met.

It is in this time that context only floats.

The past is an oasis returned to,

Where I celebrate the life I once knew.

© Liz Ward, 2010.

Categories Inspiration, Poetry, WritingTags , , , ,

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