Sitting in this dusty old attic
listening to the shingles flapping in the wind
I flip through a dog-eared book from my childhood.
As I skip through the pages,
I look up and notice the fine inlaid
carpentry work of an old chest.
Going over, leaving prints on the dusty floor,
I lift the lid. With reptilian slowness
a lazy fat spider edges away.
Inside this trove of ancient treasure,
magnificent finds of days gone by.
Mementos of a honeymoon, a parachute jump.
Gramma's best biscuit recipe. A photo of
Sam the hound with spittle running down his jowls.
A picture of a babe at his mother's ******
A permutation of these tucked away articles
give meaning to a life well and truly lived.
Closing the pages of these treasures I
wander away to watch my grandchildren
make memories of their own.
Sep 20, 2011
Sep 20, 2011 at 8:49 PM UTC
Sitting in this dusty old attic
listening to the shingles flapping in the wind
I flip through a dog-eared book from my childhood.
As I skip through the pages,
I look up and notice the fine inlaid
carpentry work of an old chest.
Going over, leaving prints on the dusty floor,
I lift the lid. With reptilian slowness
a lazy fat spider edges away.
Inside this trove of ancient treasure,
magnificent finds of days gone by.
Mementos of a honeymoon, a parachute jump.
Gramma's best biscuit recipe. A photo of
Sam the hound with spittle running down his jowls.
A picture of a babe at his mother's ******
A permutation of these tucked away articles
give meaning to a life well and truly lived.
Closing the pages of these treasures I
wander away to watch my grandchildren
make memories of their own.
Word Bricks from my friend Frank: Parachute. Dog-eared. Permutation.
****** Shingles. Honeymoon. Reptilian. Biscuit. Carpentry.
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