The Old Postcard

Up in the old dusty attic,
Locked in a wooden chest
Lay a pale faded envelope
With some odd trinkets.

Among them, a postcard
With a voice long-forgotten,
And a picture of a boulevard
Like treasure from the ocean.

“To Paris!” The year – 1970!
The cogwheels of my mind
Were churning up memories
Of a time I had left behind.

We were young and in love.
Together in the city of lights.
I remembered the Eiffel tower,
The kisses, poetry and wine.

A time that was so romantic,
Yet it was never meant to be.
Frozen in a postcard in the attic
Now just a remembrance, sweet.

Ah! How time keeps moving on!
I pick up the broom and duster
The postcard lies where it belongs
As a song sets my heart aflutter!