False Memory

BIFOCAL UNIVISION

http://bifocalunivision.blogspot.com

supplied the illustration

FALSE MEMORY

The mist is cold, the world is grey;

To think we met on such a day!

*

Back then it seemed as though the sky

Were echoing the 'You-and-I'.

Surely the sky that day was blue!

Surely the mist was pearly dew!

Surely the golden garden seat

Was fashioned for we two to meet.

As I recall, the conversation

Reflected the joy of our situation!

I saw the love-birds in the trees!

I smelled the perfume on the breeze!

I saw the flowers! Who could forget

The glory of the day we met?

*

You laughed at me, lovingly, in time....

' Nothing about it was sublime!

It was cold and damp and grey and bleak;

You and your hearts-and-flowers mystique!'

I heard you speaking mockingly;

I should have guessed you were mocking me.'

*

Now that you've gone I realise

We met under dark and lowering skies.

The mist was cold, the world was grey.

I remember it well, now you've gone away.

*

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HERE IS A FIELD 

You asked for a poem about a Field....

Here it is.

Not unpleasant.

Rural, useful, cow-flecked.

Bordered by a straggling fence.

A Field is a workaday thing,

Rufty-tufty, ragged and unremarkable.

*

Ah! But, if you had asked for a poem about a Meadow,

That would have been a different thing altogether!

A Meadow is

Billowing,

Lush,

Smelling of sweet clover.

It is inhabited by bees,

And young lovers hidden in the grass.

It is surrounded by snow-clad mountains

And overhung by blue skies and the whitest of clouds!

If only you had asked me for a Meadow

I could have written a proper poem!

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