The Old Record Player

Memories from the past

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, powerful but old 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