Beneath the lamplight's softest glow,
In an era where whispers ebb and flow,
A vintage tale, in sepia tones,
Unfurls its petals, where nostalgia drones.
Cobbled streets, with echoes of the past,
A chronicle woven, destined to last.
Horse-drawn carriages in the moonlit mist,
A bygone era, where time exists.
Gentle strains of a gramophone's croon,
Resonate melodies of a bygone June.
A rustle of silk, a flicker of lace,
In this vintage dance, a timeless grace.
Quill pens dance on parchment's breast,
Verses inked, by hearts confessed.
A dance card filled with names and dreams,
In ballroom reverie, where romance gleams.
Ladies in bonnets, gentlemen in tails,
In gaslit parlors, where conversation sails.
Tea poured from silver, in porcelain cups,
A vintage tableau, where time interrupts.
Through the haze of yesteryear's embrace,
A tapestry woven with elegance and grace.
Vintage whispers, a sepulcher of time,
In this poetic rhyme, a vintage chime.
Amidst the pages of an old journal's verse,
A vintage essence, where memories immerse.
So let the echoes of ages gently hum,
In the vintage symphony, where moments become.
About the Creator
BrendonJoseph
Just someone who enjoys the artistry of life and literacy. Aimed to capturing the small intricacies often missed.
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Comments (1)
Sometimes, memories are all that we're left with. Awesome poem!