Vibrant Memories

The smell of the open air, the brush of a flower
Nothing here is left behind as these memories shower
The open door that now sits locked
The heart and mind have all been shocked
I'm the one who looks back to those days
In a far off land which seems so far away

The smell of my childhood with the shimmering glass
Memories like photographs printed and made to last
An encounter with a thought that trickles from my eyes
In the shape of a tear drop is where my sentiment lies
The smell of the grass which looks so much like home
Feeling like sometimes I'm battling patriotism alone
The touch of her hand which made everything okay
I close my eyes to travel back to just one day

Three years old, I was sitting in the chair
I remember his face, his hands, even his hair
Fondly I hold the memory of how he used to sing
As each strand of a memory is blowing in the wind
There's not a day goes by when I don't think of their faces
From sitting all alone to walking through crowded spaces

The view from the mountain top, I can still feel the breeze
With each comforting thought these tears bring me to my knees
I wonder if they watch over me, if they're proud of what I do
I know they love me dearly, do they know I love them too?
Three years old and I lost him, he slipped away
Yet I still remember clearly all the things he used to say
I remember writing letters during class time, to say hello
Was he really gone? There was so much I needed to know
His walking stick remained in the cupboard by the stairs
His scent still remained in his favorite sitting chair

Every weekend was a phone call just to hear her say
"Elizabeth I love you and I think of you every day"
Every week was a letter to let her know I care
Each one ended with "I wish I could be there"
Fifteen years old and she quietly slipped by
Five years later and it still makes me cry
Sometimes before I close my eyes at night
I talk to her to let her know that I'm alright

I wonder if she hears me when I say "I miss you so much"
Sometimes I can still feel the softness of her touch
And as the wind blows, I'll be waiting for that smell
The smell from my childhood, the one I know so well
The breeze whispers softly and I wonder if it could be
If the softness of the sound is her talking to me
Did they send me those shooting stars to say they're still here?
I'll never, ever, forget you, and I'll love you for all my years.