Memory’s Half-Truths

‘Half-truths’ . . . Pen & Wash – WHB : 2017

Memory’s Half-Truths

Half-truths abound in memory
Reflections from my maculate mind
Those part-remembered escapades
Seem partly sighted, partly blind.

Did I when young once ever dare
When roaming in the hills
Explore that damp disused mine shaft
And risk entombment for the thrills?

Was it alone that I did climb
That thrusting rock, that mighty drop,
Without a thought for life and limb
To view the valley from the top?

And when we found that dark Blue Lake
Did I join others for a swim,
Or did I watch whilst others dived,
Afraid to join them? Memory’s dim.

That time, when rambling, I explored
Deep into that hillside cave.
Was I alone and did I dare,
How was it I could be so brave?

And did I once, my memory fades,
Spend a night upon Cass Rock
Light a fire, sleep on the stone,
Or was that all just poppycock?

My youthful escapades were many,
Risky games and daring pranks.
I’ve boasted that I once was brave,
Ever the one for breaking ranks.

I’ve told myself so many times
How bold I was, adventurous child.
And yet I know, if truth be told,
I always was but meek and mild.