Decannary

Ten years have passed since those little books began in Ernest.
Ten Years of memories I plucked from my head.
Strange how it’s taken so long to realise that,
These things, which once broken,
now rest in my head.
That maybe the time has come once and for all,
To lay down the ghosts of the past who once roamed.
To give myself memories new for the world.
To draw me a door, create me a road.
For this is a meaning, the meaning I searched for -
So long ago, tear ago, years passed and foul.
As Douglas once wrote, three, four moons ago -
My memories hope, and this book is my towel.
To carry it everywhere, anywhere new,
Be it by the hand or the blink, or a shy.
I’ll tailor these memories purely for you -
Just for the thrill of some joy in your eyes.

Written By Shane Ferguson
On The 3rd December 2007