The Old Record Player

When the needle hits the groove

On the old record player

My mum kept all these years

Until she passed away

***

Her records in a box

Kept in our dusty attic

Surrounded by my memories

Of a childhood well spent

***

As the lyrics soar in the night

And the musicality swells

My memories flow

To what we were doing then

***

Mum and dad playing

With me their little son

We three singing along

As I bang my little drum,

***

That I got for my birthday

To my dad’s fun and glee

As my mum playfully scowls

And my dad tries to flee

***

I can remember where I was

The colour of my room

The posters tacked to my walls

As the speaker’s boom

***

And I flip through the albums

The colours of their sleeves

I sing along to the lyric sheet

And whistle though the eves

***

As the tonearm lifts

And settles on its perch

I return to the present

From my pasts’ sweet church

***

Determined to revisit

My childhood fun once more

I return to the record box

And select the memories I long for

***

The records of my past

Are stored in my memory box

On 12" vinyl gold

Of which I care a lot.

***

The musical memories

A doorway to my past

Evoke happiness untold

Of memories, I’ll never forget

Stored forever…

***

….In my musical record box