Sitting, peering at albums of pictures
Such a delightfully poignant mixture
Of past memories all safeguarded
And suddenly she was bombarded
With those who were part of her life
With whom she’d shared laughter not strife
Making the passage of life and times
Oh so special, hints of lavender and wine
Far away places, a treasure trove in snippets
A hint captured, none were overly explicit
Dancing through Europe, France and Spain
Brough back memorie of one man again
A sigh of pure pleasure escaped her lips
Remembering a moment under a solar eclipse
When they’d almost become more than friends
Precious possibilities no need for amends
Certain life’s path had taken the right course
An instant, an almost, without any remorse
Yes looking at albums always makes one nostalgic.
It does, doesn’t it?