No title

 Many times ago, it was so many. So many I fail to count,
Each date, each happening fades. Each memory rushes passed.
Years so full, no diary..No calendar on the wall,
Jumble in joyful tumult. Echoes in the room .
Paintings seek attention .Ghostly children in a class.
Pencils brighten recollections. Photographs lost albums.
Cases musty  in the loft. Envelopes swearing eternal love,
Newspapers proclaiming peace. Mans’ eternal dream.