The Bottle of Memories

One of my older poems today from 2005, but one I haven't ever posted onto my blog here.

It is about time, memory, and if anyone sees traces of J.B. Priestley's "The Magicians", his time plays, Dunne's Experiment with Time, they would be right!

The Bottle of Memories

It was an old shop, paint fading worn,
Unwashed windows, cobwebs adorn;
And I wandered in by creaking door,
Into that ancient shop of nevermore,
Where time stood still, and did not pass;
I chanced upon odd bottle of glass,
Inside blue vapours caught my glance;
I asked the shop keeper its provenance,
And he told me it was a strange tale,
That inside the bottle could unveil,
Time past, one hundred years before,
And by opening it, unlock the door,
To memory past, yet also time alive,
In which two lovers then did thrive.
He invited me to try, and lifted
The glass stopper. Vapours drifted
Out towards me, and then suddenly
I was elsewhere, and I could see
The sun, feel its warmth on my face,
Feel the flow as two lovers embrace,
Hear the wind, outside this enclave,
The touch of lips as a kiss he gave;
Such joy in her face, such beauty
By dappled sunlight through a tree
And in the distance, cry of birdsong;
Feeling that this moment did belong
In eternity, wind in trees passing by
Whisper sweet caresses with a sigh;
Then it was gone, the bottle closed,
Secrets again hidden, undisclosed;
As I left the shop, I thought again
Of how no past is lost, that when
In eternity, broken time is healed
Again their love will be revealed
Again hear birdsong, come alive
Moments lost will then arrive.