|
My attic isn't gloomy,
you'll find no mice or
cobwebs there.
There's only love and happiness of things we all once shared.
They just went out of fashion as the days
passed on by.
I can't seem to part with things no matter
how hard I try.
There's the trunk with Granny's wedding dress that
all the girls have worn.
The old love letters of mama's that were written
before I was born.
The satin heart shaped box that holds my
childhood treasures.
So many memories and more love than time
can ever measure.
There's Grandpa's spats and button shoes worn
when they were married.
The old steamer trunk in which their honeymoon
clothes were carried.
There's dad's old leather doctors bag he took with
him each and every day.
When house calls were made and a chicken was
sometimes his only pay.
The old gilded mirror that reflected their
beautiful face.
Where they could tuck in a wisp of hair
that had fallen out of place.
An antique hand cranked Victrola with its
records of romance.
To which my mother and her sisters learned
to ballroom dance.
The dress form where none of their lovely frocks
were left to chance.
Stands oh so stately and hardly commands
a backward glance.
No dear heart, these simple things are not junk,
for each one holds a story.
They bring me peace and comfort now that they
have all gone to Glory.
Mary S. Hymel
Visitors
Since March12,2002
WebCounter
|