The Vestiges of Happy Times A Memory Box A red can rolling on rugged roads, Two walkers heavy-laden Who chance upon a smiling child Too soon to be a maiden; The sounds of sirens rushing past And bright green, high-viz jackets, Some shocking- pink and scented silk Crushed scarves and chocolate packets; Those unwise monkeys, sage old owls, Rushed meetings on the playground, Blue Chinese teapots, card designs, Treasured totems tossed and found; Dark decorated scented pines, Proud tall denuded neighbours, Cold leaden skies, secreted stars, The shepherds from their labours; All empty streets and hungry hearts, Vestigial potpourri, Dissolving hands around mine eyes, Surprises that befall me; Now times ahead are failing fast, And those behind increasing, Deep dazzling suns and azure skies, Sad souls believing, kneeling; The blasts of sirens once again, Such dangerous journeys for thee, Smart cars and trains and boats and planes, Those empty seats before me; Tears and tantrums, sulks and sorrows, Silly sentiments of mine? Not spent feelings soon forgotten, But a vase of eglantine. No, not spent feelings soon forgotten, But lasting love forever thine. David James Beale For my sweet niece and her Grandmothers with thanks for their enduring love.