Bryan Deakin

Scottish Poet / Blogger / Community Activist

Lost In Time

I see her standing still,
Shoulder pressed against the solid red brick wall,
A brick that hasn’t been used in building construction,
In many a year,
Her clothes aren’t of this time,
They are from an age long ago,
Yet she seems familiar,
In an odd way,
I know her, but I don’t.

I walk over to this familiar stranger,
And engage in small talk,
Her grammar and accent is out of place,
I think, to posh, snobbish, Victorian,
I presume,
I ask her name,
She starts to say but I jump in with her full name,
She looks at me, and smiles,
Then the words precisely, leave her lips.

She looks at me and sighs,
And asks how I knew,
I couldn’t tell you, I reply,
Then our eyes meet,
Moments pass, few minutes maybe,
I giggle, she asks why,
I answer with how rude I am being,
She squints her eyes and asks what I mean,
I tell her that I haven’t said my name.

Before I manage to speak my name,
Her finger is on my lips,
I look down then up and she looks down,
In a sad voice she says,
Your name is not important my love,
I know I am not of this time,
Your heart is with me forever,
And forever is longer than time,
We were lovers in a yesteryear,
Lovers back in my time.

I look at her, seeing a tear form in her eye,
I lift up her chin and smile,
If you were my love in,
I must have had taste, if I proclaimed my love,
Then deep in my heart you still have it,
But time has moved on,
I’m in a new life, you are my past,
A past that will remain
That was my reply.
She looked up,
And a small smile came,
She laughed and took a few steps forward,
And gave me a kiss on my lips,
As she stepped back,
I love you my dear could be heard,
As she disappeared.

I looked at the wall
Where she was standing
Scribbled deep into the brick,
Were our initials,
With lovers forever below.

© 2005 – 2016

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