Photograph

I found this photograph,
underneath the broken picture glass.
Tender face of black and white,
Beautiful, a haunting sight.
Looked into an angel's smile,
captivated all the while.
From the hair and clothes she wore,
I'd place her in between the wars.
Was she willing when she sat
and posed the pretty photograph?
Save her flowering and fair,
the days to come, the days to share.
A big smile for the camera,
how did she know?
the moment could be lost forever
forever more
I found this photograph,
stashed between the old joist walls,
in a place where time is lost,
lost behind, where all things fall.
Broken books and calendars,
letters script in careful hand,
music too, a standard tune by
some forgotten big brass band.
From the threshhold what's to see
of our brave new century?
The television's just a dream,
the radio, the silver screen.
A big smile for the camera,
how did she know?
the moment could be lost forever
forever more
Was her childhood filled with rhymes,
stolen hooks, impassioned crimes?
Was she innocent or blind
to the cruelty of her time?
Was she fearful in her day,
was she hopeful, did she pray?
Were there skeletons inside,
family secrets, sworn to hide?
Did she feel the beat that stirs,
the fall from grace of wayward girls?
Was she tempted to pretend,
the love and laughter, 'til the end?