Skip to main content

TRAVELLING DOWN MEMORY LANE

 Travelling Down Memory Lane

What interesting roads we travel
When we head down memory lane;
What images of life fill our vision
As the intersections of our brain
Lead off in so many directions
To paths now obscured by the fog
Of dates and places and people;
Strange things cause our memory to jog.
Our memory lane curves and meanders
Round the corners, o’er the hills of our mind
As the fences and posts mark the boundaries
Of the places we’re trying to find
Now almost lost in the days of our journeys;
Days we wouldn’t bring back if we could;
Yet our thoughts seem to long there to linger
As the ivy entwines round the wood.
In the mist we see shadows of houses;
Broken tree swings where children once played;
Seems like it was only yesterday
When those precious memories were made.
Does memory lane just make a circle;
Bring us back to a time we once knew;
Or does it continue to go on forever
Until it ends somewhere in the blue?
I think we will find the answer
As our children and grandchildren grow,
And the memories we share are the pavement
As on through life’s journey they go;
Walking in footsteps we’ve laid out before them;
Following paths we have made for their tread;
Picking apples we planted by the roadside;
Providing sustenance for their journey ahead.
Written by Joan Rowden Hart, 10/21/04
Copyright Joan Hart 2005


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Near Death Testimony from Judge Larry Winfrey

Larry Winfrey has given me permission to share this testimony.   Grab a box of Kleenex and maybe a sweater for the cold chills you will get in the middle of it. "During my recent medical crisis, I was unconscious for two days. The following is what I experienced during that time. If you have the time and the inclination, I would be interested in your thought. I am pasting what I have sent to others who have inquired. Thank you! Thank you for expressing interest in hearing what happened to me during the two days of unconsciousness, it has had a profound effect upon me. Whether real or imagined, or you believe it or not makes no difference, it will all depend on your relationship with God. Nor will it affect my appreciation for you. I could not breathe! I remember thinking I was dead and that I was not ready to die. I thought of my family. I did not see any bright light or passed loved ones. I did not see any angels enveloped in a holy penumbra. What I saw was Sata

LDR column published 05.09.12 - Jess Easley

Straight From The Hart By Joan Rowden Hart Jess  Easley , Lebanon Historian and StoryTeller I’ve been trying to trace a place called Railroad Pond from the early days of Lebanon.  Perhaps some of you “old-timers” will have more information, but I found a reference to it in Jess  Easley ’s recollections of Lebanon. Jess talked about skating on Railroad Pond when he was just a kid, and also working to cut ice on it during the cold winters that Lebanon experienced.  The grocery stores which had meat markets would hire people to cut ice from the pond to put in their ice house and store for the summer. Jess was one of Milan’s favorite customers when Milan started working at the barber shop with Fred Pitts in 1968, and he quickly became one of Milan’s mentors in collecting oral memories and memorabilia of Lebanon history. Jess was born in Lebanon in January of 1891, and died here on March 1, 1983 at the age of 92 , and had a good strong mind right up to the very end, so he had many memories

CEMETERY MEMORIES

  MEMORIES OF MEMORIAL DAY It was just an everyday phone call, It was just a simple request; But, oh, the memories it triggered, Memories so precious and blessed. My grandmother’s beautiful flowers, peonies and lilacs and flags, We picked them and handled them gently, laid in baskets and boxes and bags. Through April and May she would tend them, as they grew with bright buds and full blooms We children were not allowed near them, we were tantalized by their perfume. Eagerly, we would wait for that morning that she called Decoration Day; That’s what her flowers were grown for as April came, and turned into May. We usually walked to the cemetery carrying baskets and bags filled with flowers; We looked at all the gravestones with interest, sometimes we would stay there for hours While all of the adults were visiting with friends they had not seen for years. We never really comprehended the meaning of their laughter and hugs, and the tears. I just knew there was something so special on thi