Just a Photograph
The picture has you sitting on the headland near the beach,
Seeming near enough to touch but still just out of reach.
You have an arm outstretched, which is resting upon
A beach ball that will roll away unless the breeze has gone.
You are wearing a bathing suit that fits you really well
And clings to your slim figure, as the camera can tell.
Your long, dark hair reaches down to your shoulders to rest,
Tumbling to a halt just above your shapely breast.
From your neck hangs a bluejohn pendant, your favourite I know,
That you bought on a trip to Derbyshire several weeks before.
That picture on that beach was taken by your best friend
And you sent me a copy after that holiday had to end.
The photograph shows a smile that plays upon your face;
A wistful expression, but with elegance and grace.
When that picture’s in my mind, I always like to think I see
The thought that made you smile, were you thinking just of me?
And in that picture in my mind, your youth and beauty linger on
Although, after all these years, they must have faded some.
So in that photograph you’ll always be just sixteen years,
The girl who first held my heart as boyhood disappeared.
But, while you are not far away, it can never be the same,
For when first love has ended it will never come again.
I no longer have that photograph, I destroyed it years ago,
But I can still see it in my mind. The memory won’t let go.
©David Lewis Pogson 2004