Rain on a Strange Roof

When I penetrate my memory,
It’s like re-reading our own history
Chapter one: climbing trees in the rain,
And me crying out in sudden pain,
In my hand there was a splinter.
Nothing tugs on the heart-strings,
Like such sweet imaginings,
Do you remember Holly Bank in winter?
Peel back the clouds,
Blow the dust from the pages,
Turn back the clock,
Travel through the ages.
And memories are brought to mind,
By photographs I sometimes find,
Those hours just walking up and down,
Travelling miles and going nowhere, just roaming around,
Never quite sure where we’re going.
Standing in the rain, just the two of us,
Cigarettes in hand, waiting for a bus,
And that bus never showing.
Peel back the clouds,
Blow the dust from the pages,
Turn back the clock,
Travel through the ages.
The things we did when we were dared,
Just to prove that we weren’t scared,
Late night’s out at Vale Head Park,
Hiding near the bridge in the dark,
Trying not to make a noise,
As a group of older boys,
Tell ghost stories about the Blue Lady.
The man-made beach- such a sunspot,
Summer could be just too hot,
But by the lake it was shady.
Refold the clouds,
Close the book but learn the lesson,
Let the clock run its course,
Here’s an old man with a nostalgic expression.