Poems of Narad

Nothing Is As Fine As Memory

Nothing is as fine as memory
Illusive though it be through time and tears,
For in its aura, rainbow-like we see
The poignant, yearning dreams of yesteryears.

And yet when we recall the taste of things
Superior to all we know today
Is it a canvas of lost imaginings
Or fancy of the dreaming mind at play?

If we evoke in a lambent hush a rose
Above an arbour of our childhood's door
Does memory more beautifully disclose
A haunting fragrance we cannot restore

To blossoms of a later garden's charm
Surrounding us with colour and delight?
When we held our lover tightly, arm in arm
In the surpassing mystery of night

Was the torrid flame engulfing us more pure,
Desire fiercely burning without thought,
Do the passing seasons make our vision truer
Than inner scenes from youth's dimensions caught?