Do you remember times gone by
When stardust sprinkled evening sky
And silence was a welcome friend
Who visited at each day’s end ?
When words were meant to carry us
Into the twilight’s quiet hush
With thoughts of what is yet to come
To comfort all and solace some ?
This simple task, a wistful one
Recalls how quickly life is done
While all we’ve known does go astray
Soon to become our yesterday !
I hear the distant voice of spring
It’s echo now remembering
The pleasant hours it left behind
That time to come may chance rewind.
Those days of calm before the storm
While hearts were young and without form,
Days felt so crisp the air was sweet
Our wishes then knew no defeat !
Crass life recalls those dreams forgot
That moved on by and lingered not
As hope and love did melt away
Into the mist of yesterday !
Let’s pray the memories we tuck away
Inside our hearts and minds will not decay
But must linger longer more than today.
Our memories reflect just who we are
And fill our days and lives with character
To help us reach for God’s elusive star.
I’d like to know the treasure futures hold
And if I should be smart or should be bold
Or how one’s whole life story will unfold.
Remembering displays both right and wrong
It’s where we were first taught how to belong
It is what makes us wise and keeps us strong !
When I find myself in a daze
I wallow in vanilla glaze
I’m not too sure why that should be
My world is mostly sugar-free !
Perhaps my childhood will explain
Why sugar icing calls my name
I grew up in a sparser time
Where sweet things cost one extra dime,
And cake was truly all homemade
No soda pop just lemonade,
That canvas bag of powdered sweet
Marked 3 X, my old childhood treat !
Where do all of our memories go
Recalling things we knew long ago
To remember when I was so small
And my world about seemed ever tall.
These remembrances still fill my mind
Days sometimes glad and sometimes unkind
Some days when I felt lost or confused
Others as we laughed and were amused.
Plain and simple joys that used to be
Committed now to each memory
That won’t be lost and keeps flowering
With its virtues overpowering.
The 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month of the year 1918, that was the original Armistice Day that morphed into Veteran’s Day in 1954. My only sibling was born at that precise moment in 1939. My dad referred to her as his “American Flag” ! She weighed in at 8 lbs. 11 oz. and became the epitome of patriotism as she grew. She sure could write ! Recently, necessity demanded that I winnow my mementoes, the result being the discovery of my original DATELINE articles self-published for the patrons of HOBOKEN HOUSE, I will be sharing, without editing, these 30 year old articles and hope you may find the humor is still applicable ! Good luck with that, right ? For those of you who thirst for other avenues of interest, may I suggest that you read “Thieves of Baghdad” by my son, Colonel Matthew Bogdanos, U.S.M.C., retired, an exciting account of the search for ancient relics. Do you remember that old commercial, “Try it, you’ll like it !”, perhaps ? Sincerely, Claire B.
How sad it is to bid goodbye
To close the door and wonder why
The past is never far behind
It lingers long upon the mind
And carries on its tethered wings
The burden of forgotten things.
I thought with time I might forget
Those moments bearing deep regret
To be so sorry for the day
I should have said don’t go away,
But you are gone and time will tell
We had no chance to say farewell !
There are some days that I simply cannot recall without a sprinkling of tears, however of late the occasions are multiplying faster than my tissue supply ! Can you relate at all ? And these words run through my head in confirmation, “The world is too much with us: late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours;” this compliments of the master, William Wordsworth. Does anyone find the name suspicious or apropos ? “Words worth” remembering and we have for ages ! I fault this poet with my adoration of the “misty isles” as it was his “Lines Composed A Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey”. that brought me as a young woman to his country for the first time and has kept me enchanted for far more than half of my life. Frankly, Wales sings to me with its moods and passion while England appeals to my sense of being ! Scotland is all strength and courage and the Channel Isles are contentment. Ireland is a world apart, fantasy and dreams completing the cycle of life. It is two years now I’m unable to return and memories must do, like the ancient Hebrew wish, “Next year in Jerusalem”, as I reach for the kleenex. What do you think ?
Sincerely,
Claire B.
Today is my mother’s hundredth birthday
Now how can that be, seems just yesterday
That we sat together to bid goodbye
In that quiet place you could hear a sigh.
A squeeze of the hand and a fond farewell
Are all I recall and all I can tell
Her smile was a gift and pleasant surprise
She was simple and kind, loving and wise.
How lucky was I to have her with me
She kept me grounded and prejudice free.
Miss you a bunch Mom, no matter how far
And wish you my love wherever you are.
Such a cheerful face and a ready smile
She made my young life so much more worth while
And was always there when I craved advice
With a hug and a kiss not once but twice.
Rose arrived in July of ninety-five
Born just two pounds no one thought she’d survive
She surprised them all and was fine by spring
But never grew tall, just a tiny thing.
She raised five brothers and a niece or two
Looked after her dad and her mother too
She’d knit and crochet and even tat lace
That smile we all loved remained on her face.
Through her very long life she kept her cheer
Dear old Aunt Rose how I wish you were here!
Sifting through the ashes of a
bitter burning ember
Of forgotten days that time is
dying to remember
Where winter thoughts demand their
silence softly to be heard
Like some feint storm that rages on
appearing now absurd,
To leave one faithful moment here
that truth can realize
There bearing in its icy grip
lost dreams of paradise,
An everlasting steadfast ghost
of hope that went astray
To carry on its battered wings
past thoughts of yesterday.
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Claire V. Bogdanos 