The Old Photographs
by Bernie Bell - 09:12 on 26 November 2023
Mike’s poem – stands alone….
The Old Photographs
I was happy then
A sturdy, independent-minded infant
‘Smoking’ my Daddy’s Peterson pipe
Running near-naked on a Cornish beach
And again, Country Life, maybe ten or eleven
Communing with a New Forest pony
Or donkeys on a farm trail
No thought beyond the now
And so, through the years
With hills and dogs
And dear faces
No longer with us
We were happy then
At the door of our first house
My red beard rhyming with your red hair
And glowing on our wedding day
And so, among hills and trees and standing stones
A record of times with Ben-the-dog
And family and ourselves
A celebration through the hard times and the good
If we were to take a photograph now
It would show my white beard
Flecked with the last of red
Still rhyming with your hair
And if someone, years later
Should chance upon the image
They would know
“They were happy then”
McB November 2023
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