____________________________________________________________
Memories of Tomorrow

                                                                               A book of relief for
                                                                               Samuel F.Tyldsley

                                                            Introduction

    Before you now
    I place my soul:
    my sorrows, and my dreams;
    that you may read,
    and come to feel
              that in our strife our lives entwine-
    And if you qaze
             into the sky, upon one rainy eve,
    I pray
    within my words you find a friend;
             a qentle memory-
    And read these words as thouqh your own,
              for so I now pronounce them:
     mine no longer.
 
 

                                                        S.F. TYLDSLEY
 

   'cross the sea,
  I spy eternity;
                     and the questions 
    that I ask
   are of mine own invention.

   Distant stars
    seek nothing from me.

   Who I am,
    or where I am headed
   change daily
    as I live today.
 
 
 
 
 

                                                                               Moonlight gleams
                                                                                                        beyond the water,
                                                                                            yet I look within myself;
                                                                                            searching for

                                                                                 some introspective
                                                                                          shining
                                                                                 to match the moon
                                                                                          before my eyes.
 
 
 
 
 
 

            Gently roles the distant tide
                        while a tempest roars
                                    within my soul

                        One must be like the water 
                        and seek thy level
                                    amidst all obstacles...

                         but wind will blow
                                    and Earth will shake
                         and stir this mighty cauldron
                         where peace lies
                                    gently swimming.
 
 
 
 

                                                                    How many feet,
                                                                        connected to bodies thought immortal,
                                                                    have trod on yonder strand
                                and been forgotten?
                                                                                     How many gulls
                                                                                     have flown this sky
                                                                                     in search of
                                                                                     respite from
                                                                                     that flight?

                                                                                     How many young

                                                                                     have gazed in wonderment
                                                                                     and wished upon a star?
 
 

                                                             If I had love poems
                                                                      in me to write,
                                                                      most assuredly
                      I would write them
                                                            to you.

                                                                        If I had in me
                                                                        feelings to give

 

                                          I would
                                          most vehemently
                                         shout them
                                          (and be certain
                                                                                          you'd hear).
 
 

                                                                        But I often compare my heart
                                                                         to this desert
                                                                        (though I have lived
                                                                            not near as much)

                                                                                                It once may have been

                                              an ocean deep
                                              (a long time ago)
                                              but now it is arid
                                              and so easily rots away;

                                                                                             For, though
                                                                                             there is life here
                                                                                             it lies deeply hidden
                                                                                             and a stranger

                                                                                             to the touch.

                                            And does it really matter?
 
 
 
 

    In the darkest chasm of this dismal heart of mine
    lies a shining spark which bares your name…
                    And every now and then,
                              I gaze within the darkness of my soul
                                             and see that spark ignite
                                                  as I speak your name.

                                                                                In the horizon
                                                                                I see
                                                                                the infinity
                                                                                in your eyes.

                                                   The stars above
                                                   are the dreams we share

                     Each moment we're apart
                             seems like the longest
                                        darkest
                                                    night;

                                                                                 But your love
                                                                                 is the sunrise
                                                                                 that breaks my mourning.

    Many years from yesterday
                                                                                        it often seems have passed.
                                                 Did I leave my dreams,
                                                                                        or have they left me
                                far behind
                                                  still staggering through today,
     never reaching what I thought
                                                                                        would be tomorrow
                                                  on that sunny yesterday?
 
 
 

These words I find too easily;
       too quickly fall they from my pen
to be the net
       of years of toil
       or some fine example of my craft...

Yet, I write these words again
                                    and wonder
       Dare I call them mine?
                                    and
       Dare I call them fit to read?…
                but they seemed fit to think
                                    for just a moment
and for that moment, I record them.

And so I scatter them,
        like a fool who scatters crumbs
                                    upon a path
                 that he may follow them home…

                                    On the sea,
                                    I see the eternity
                                    in your eyes.

                                    In the waves,
                                   I feel the contour
                                    of your smile.

                 Damn those birds!
 
 
 
 

                                                                                                  Sail aloft, my cares

                                                                                                                      on the breeze;
                                                                                                        and with them go my
                                                                                                                      solitude.
                                                                                                        Indeed, all self is lost
                                                                                                                as I join with the
                                                                                                                      sky;

                                                                                                        For man's world
                                                                                                                is the place for
                                                                                                                      individualism;
                                                                                                                      for assertions;
                                                                                                                self-respect.
 

    Into the sky 
               flies freedom
               and all that I
                      once held as true.
   I need hold no more;
   For, nothing feigns control
                                             me.
  There is no force to fight
                                             against…
   I soar above my cares
               as they soar above me,
                                              here,
               o'er this land
               I had forgotten.
 
 
 
 
 

                                                      So many dreams have passed me by

 

                                                        without leaving a desire
                                                                  to even know why...
                                                                  I sit alone and stare
                                                                  up into the evening
                                                                              sky,
                                                        waiting for stars
                                                                  to wish upon…
                                                                             and I wonder
                                                                  what I'm wishing for…
                                                                             for those dreams that
                                                                             never were mine?;
 
                                                       Those dreams I wish I had
                                                                      before you said goodbye
 
 
 

 Sunset ends another day;
     but where are all
     the dreams
 I had this morning?

 I seem to have forgotten
     them
     this evening.

 For,
     while it mattered
     to make plans
     at the beginning,
     as I reach the end,
 I find
     the questions
     that I asked
     were not important.
 I but needed
     to ask something
     and keep occupied
     until this night
     before me.
 
 
 
 
 
 

                         The ocean breams with streams of gleams
                                            and I sit here and watch them;
                                            and wonder if I need be thus;
                                 Alone.

                                                                             For,
                                                                                    like too many others, 
          I could not admit myself

                                                                                                                  to need another;

                                                                                     And yet,
                                                                                     I think of her often.
                                                                               I wonder if we'd share the view.
                                                                               I wonder if I'd tell her,
                                                                                    "Let me be…

                                                                                               alone."
 
 


 Return to the Samuel Tyldsley Index

    The song playing, "Living in the Past" by Jethro Tull, is perhaps somewhat anachronistic, but we at Hoeffmeir thought it most fitting.  It was found at  KWest Productions.
 
 

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