Deja Vu

Board a carriage invisible

With a return ticket to a

Sentimental little town called

Nostalgia, where the streets are

Narrow, cobbled, and quiet,

Save for hard-heeled boots that

Click-clack, and walking sticks that

Tip-tap the rhythm of “The Blue Danube.”

The hands of a clock tower pause, and

Creak back to an almost-forgotten hour,

Watching shadows stretch like memories.

It’s no mere maudlin journey to

Neverland, but a notion tried and true,

For who can deny there’s something

Magical about the flickering of

Candlelight and that moment of déjà vu?

 

 

Reviews

[Lorry]

Ahh, my favourite destination. Just sit back, take out the old rose-tinted's and enjoy the journey.
Smells do it for me. I smell an aroma of freshly baked somethings and coffee and it transports me back in time to a happy place in more innocent carefree days, where you could actually stop and think without being mowed down by everyone of those "top of headers" who are too busy scrolling on screens to bother look where they are going and flattening you in the process.
I always make sure my return journey is open, just in case I get forgetfulness wandering reminiscent row! 😃

[MCS]

Brilliant piece of writing dear poet. Enjoyed :)

[Einstein Noodle]

well done! really like this poem! love the story .. the metophors and all the rest .. mighty fine work says i! thanks for sharing!
E.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I often have a wish of having lived in those days...something about them....they still had some of those when my dad was a kid....he told me stories.
this poem tells me a story of many stories of how it was. Picturesque.
j.