MEMORIES OF JANICE

 

I found the box in the attic

A flat, rigid white box

The sort that special greetings card came in

It was immediately familiar

Reminding me of my first love

For inside the box

Carefully kept and preserved

Were the love letters from Janice

Scented with cheap perfume

Letters full of young girls chatter

About favourite pop groups and fashions

And the days “must haves”

Talk of adolescent love and longing

Honey coated words of first love

Kept in the same box as her valentines card

Teenage love fondly remembered

The perfume was still evocative

Though faded like the memory

But I could see her pretty face

Framed with that fine brown hair

Cut in a Bob, so it kissed her neck as she moved

Her developing figure that hinted at what would be

Her gentle laugh that made you turn your eyes to her

The soft delicate hands that felt so good in mine

That first kiss that lingered on my lips

Long after we parted

I smiled at the memory

And wondered how her life went

What kind of woman did she become?

Did her aspirations bear fruit?

Or did she muddle through the years like the rest of us

Best not to know probably

The truth might diminish the memory

Of a sweet young girl