Matte photographs with rounded corners,

So old the people are now lost,

Dead, or moved away – I don’t really know.

But it’s Christmas there, they’re happy

With tacky decorations sellotaped to curtain rails

And a trifle taking centre stage,

The men smoke pipes (inside, can you believe?)

And the women wear dresses, conservative

The hems below the knee, and hair

Curled and set in that classic wartime ‘do.

I want to reach in there and touch those souls,

Feel that happy time and smell tobacco in the air,

But photos only hold a memory, in sepia,

And only for those lucky to be there.

At my childhood hone we had a cupboard that was full of photo albums and a biscuit tin that was also full of pictures. I loved nothing more than to sit on the floor and pull them all out. It was lovely to just flick through the past, even a past that was before I was on this earth.

In fact, I really liked looking at the old phots from the years before I was born, seeing my parents as youngsters, in their twenties and enjoying the freedom they had at that time.

I love to see how the fashions have changed and what food is on the table. I like to see the old furniture and the fact that it was totally normal to sit inside and smoke – with kids nearby!

And then I wonder where these people are now. I’m sure most of them have died, but I know that some of my parents’ old friends are dotted around the country, no longer in their twenties now. I wonder how their lives have changed and what they have been through in all this time?

Much Love

Rachel xx