A Soul Remembered: A Poem

I hope that this post will take you, the reader, on a journey. If you’re a regular reader of my blog, then you’ll know that I post many stories and poems that I’ve written over the years. However today, this poem is a little bit different because it’s accompanied by beautiful atmospheric photographs from Michael at Forties Photos! Michael and I “met” through Twitter, and share a love of World War II subjects and everything ’40s. He’s quite a photographer, and has been kind enough to help me out by supplying me with photos for my blog. I’m excited to share this collaboration with you, and I’m sure you’ll be as thrilled with it as I am.

A Soul Remembered

The atmosphere feels thick yet calm

In this place that I have known

The air sparkles brown and gray

With the dust of a weary day


And I hear voices; no, an echo

Memories are my only fellow

Each man, each friend, has gone home

In a place so busy I am alone

But still can feel what I used to feel

A joy electric, an accomplishment real.


Whether that lives here or just in mind

Has an answer undefined

Though I remember; remember well

The stories only these walls can tell

And a story much more unknown

More rare and precious, and not yet grown


I remember you who know it too

Though you are gone, and barely in view

We had that chapter, over too fast

Now onwards, perhaps the story will last.


The doors are locked, the memory within

And I am their keeper, their guardian

The soul of this place chills me yet

As I look around I can never forget;


Echoes of toil float through the air

The laughter, the hardship we had to bear;

Our footsteps, etched forever in dust

Remind me of your presence, and that I must

Live on in this place, for the soul still remains

Somedays a whisper, then louder refrains.


But always in the quiet, I can near touch that soul

Voices fade, friends leave; but it won’t grow old

In a cheerless shell, it brings hope

Through monotonous days, it gives scope

And as the poisonous dust hangs ever low,

Through it I see you as you come and go


You still exist here, somewhere in my heart

And here this great story got its start

Here I have lived, and many times cried

Here my feelings of doubt have died;


Even as the soul sleeps, I know it is there

I can feel its breath, its life in the air

In the depths of silence, in questioning why

I find peace, in this place still alive.

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All photographs are attributed to Michael from Forties Photos, taken at former RAF base Metheringham. Check out the Metheringham Airfield website here, and be sure to browse more of Michael’s work here on Forties Photos!


It’s Only a Page: A Poem

Everyone goes through phases in life. At the end of last year I left a tumultuous yet overall positive one; after leaving a job which caused me much stress yet taught me even more. It taught me to go through negativity with hope for the future, to enjoy the small things, and to take charge of not only my attitudes but my life as well. Even though we do face phases with definitive themes, every day is a new opportunity to create something great. That job overhauled my outlook; because through its adversity I realised that good things do still happen and changes are often not far off!

That job also brought me a number of really wonderful friends. These friends, along with the laughter, companionship, and support they give me, make all of life’s phases easier to deal with. Troubles seem a little bit lessened when you know you’re not alone. The following poem speaks to the different chapters of life, and the idea that even bad times don’t last forever and need not be faced alone. I hope it resonates with you, as it has come from a very honest place in my heart.

It’s Only a Page

If you are lonely

And do not feel whole,

Look not to your heart

Nor to your soul–

But look to the chapter

Which your footsteps now read

Some chapters are joyful,

While others spell need.

And do not despair

For it’s only a page

In the volumes of time,

Writ as you age;

Let your heart be glad

And your soul aware–

For one day, my friend

Your story I’ll share.