I sat beside my wind-up train,
Of red and blue, some tracks remain,
The key now rusted, but yet in place,
I fear to wind it, you know, just in case.

There’s my woollen brave stuffed teddy,
Yellow buttons for eyes, wide open and ready,
To play once more on linoleum floor.
My past stares back bringing tears to my eyes,
An old banjo still there, no strings, no surprise.

There’s a painted wooden box, all my sisters dolls,
She’d sit them down, their backs to the wall,
And call them each by name, one she called Louise,
Who’s eyes would close, when she lay down.

She did love her the most, she told me so,
Should I pick her up and take to her now,
I wondered if her eyes would open,
She’s been asleep for all these years,
Or, would she be angered if woken.

A beach-ball bucket and spade,
I remember those times of childhood days,
Cold water, sand-dunes and sun,
Egg sandwich and milk, and ice cream from mom.

I’m an old man of seven,
Sitting here in my memory of heaven,
As life flickers by, each blink of a tear filled eye,
Turning teddy away, so he won’t see I’ve cried,
While lifting Louise, her bright eyes opened wide.

Such a beautiful smile, I held her a while,
Then lay her back to never grow old,
I glance round this wondrous space,
Of books and toys, while memories unfold,
I’ll take a stroll to another place,
To shuffle the cards of life once more.

adthomas