I sat in my comforable chair
Looking out at the greyness
Comfortable and warm
And my thoughts strayed to distant days
And i began to reflect
I had reached a point in my life
Where there was more behind me
Than there was to come
And i looked back on a life
Stretching back across the decades
To simpler times and people
With simpler hopes dreams and aspirations
And I am drawn to the dustiest reaches of the attic
In search of half forgotten memories
In half forgotten boxes
Hidden in the dark and dingy recesses
Of a seldom visited place
Rummaging amidst the dusty flotsam
Accumulated after a long life
They sit untidy and disarranged
As the cobweb covered corners of my mind
Behind the old discarded toys
No longer cool in this electronic age
An old gramophone, a sewing machine
An old rocking chair and pictures long out of fashion
And countless hatboxes
My search is rewarded when I find a box
Beneath the thickest covering of dust
And open it with bated breath
To reveal the accumulated papers of my life
Cards, programs, tickets, souvenirs,
Snapshots of lost moments
And items once to precious to part with
On top football programs
My first England game when we beat Hungary 4 – 1
And Tony Curry scored from outside the box
Assorted United games home and away
The FA cup final when we lost to Arsenal in the last minute
Then my eyes were drawn to a white box
The sort that special greetings card came in
It was immediately familiar
Reminding me of first love
Carefully boxed and kept
The love letters from Janice
Scented with cheap perfume
Full of young girls chatter
About favourite pop groups and fashions
And the days “must haves”
Talk of adolescent love and longing
Kept in the same box fondly remembered
The perfume still evocative
Though faded like the memory
But I could see her pretty face
Framed with fine brown hair
Bobbed so it kissed her neck as she moved
Her developing figure that hinted at what would be
Her gentle laugh that made you turn your eyes to her
The soft delicate hands that felt so good in mine
That first kiss that lingered on my lips
Long after we parted
I wonder how her life went
What kind of woman did she become
Did her aspirations bear fruit?
Or did she muddle through the years like all of us
Best not to know probably
The truth might diminish the memory
Of sweet young Janice
I set the box aside and rummage deeper
I come to another box and look inside
It’s full of photos of long forgotten friends
And souvenirs of a day trip to France
When we had to carry John back to the boat
I laughed to myself
Beneath that box was a party invitation
The party where I first met Fiona
A beautiful girl in a woman’s body
Who chose me despite a host of suitors
And we danced into the night
Her firm body pressed against mine
Arms clinging tightly to me
Her breath against my neck
In full view of envious eyes
And later in passionate embrace
Just the two of us in the darkness
I paused briefly at the memory and sighed
Then delved deeper into the box
Where Beneath the invitation was an envelope
I opened it tipping out its contents
Half a dozen photos and a Wimbledon program
Fell into my lap, I turned over the top photo
And Yvonne’s sweet face
Smiled at me from a discoloured print
I recalled the day instantly
It was at Wimbledon long long ago
She had begged me to take her
I liked tennis but I liked her more so I agreed
Suddenly I could smell her
And hear the infectious little giggle
And feel her touch on my skin
Her lips on mine
The memory of the day was so vivid
And of the days of unbridled passion that followed
When the wonders of her soft body
Were yielded to me
Then I put everything back into the box
And left the dusty confines of the attic
I returned to my armchair
And continued in my reflection
My searching had left me feeling both happy and sad
Happy at the rekindled memories
Sad because they were only that
Happy to have experienced them
And sad because I would never again
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