Sometimes there are moments,

Little fractions of time,

These forgotten flashes,

At the back of my mind.

Part of me wanting to,

Stay forever frozen,

In a couple seconds,

If it can be chosen.

The smell of an old book, 

Freshly mown dewy grass,

Reflections on windows, 

Colours dancing on glass. 

Heavy rain pattering,

Outside of the dry car.

Sitting round a bonfire,

and strumming a guitar.

Bitter dark chocolate,

Tricky matches of chess,

An old Beatles album,

A fancy blood-red dress.

Exchanging our secrets,

Sparkling eyes in the sun,

Like a pool of honey,

A beautiful loved one.

A town in the mountains,

Dressed in sugary snow,

Foggy breath in the wind,

A warm fire that glows.

Masked with identities,

In the blinding spotlight,

A stage of expression,

Beaming courage and might.

The smiling moon and stars,

The calmness of the tide,

Dancing in the darkness,

The feeling of pure pride.

Lives are made up of bits,

That pass and go like air,

Bits that make great stories,

To anyone who cares.

We each have our moments,

Each one uniquely ours,

That make us feel something,

from our depth of memoirs. 

Unexplainable things,

That live inside our hearts, 

Through lenses of brightness… 

Everything is art.