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Array
(
[sid] => 173509
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Memories and Time
[time] => 2012-07-31 19:09:36
[hometext] => Picked up a picture and it inspired this poem!
[bodytext] => Setting here looking at a picture, yesterday seems like today. Only it’s of my father, a few years ago he passed away. Time is funny, whether it is yesterday or a few years past. Time is of the essence, hold onto your memories and make them last. This picture, which I calmly hold in my hand. I can’t help to think of my father, he only wanted to be a good man. Looking at this photo, brings me back in time. Regressing at the moment, no hypnotist to make a chime. Why is it we grow to love? then things, from us are taken away. Time can be so cruel, allowing us to think about it every day. What is time? why is it something we just can’t see? Why does it make us older? why doesn’t it just let us be? The picture, still grasped in my hand. Realizing memories are fading, trying to hold on to the love if I can. Oh father time, i only wish we didn’t have to grow old. I know it is the way life is and pictures hold memories and stories to be told. Setting down this photo, a photo of my dad. Many years now have passed, i now realize everything I had! Time keeps bringing me, to points in my life that are meant to be. Father time is my teacher, allowing me visions of many things I did not see. Written by E. Wayne Searles on 1 August 2012. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 161 [topic] => 21 [informant] => waynster [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. ©
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