Friday already! Today is a good Day! I am sharing some of my poetry. This was written by me in April 1994 to my eldest daughter. She had moved to a new apartment with her husband and had mentioned in a phone call how some of her "memories" were put in the attic.
There is a whole history of life in the attic
In boxes, bags and such
All the things a daughter treasures
All the "stuff" that means so much.
Running fingers over familiar things
Causes pulling of one's heart strings.
Life in photographs from birth to prom
Toys and keepsakes from friends, Dad and Mom.
Where had all the time gone, remember being in Korea?
Gosh, it seems so long ago.
Oh dear! Here come the tears
Following this audiovisual aid of all the years.
And she cries for something lost
Though she can't pinpoint just what it is,
She is thinking, "I'm still me, but I'm different
I am longing for my previous youth
And yet, I wouldn't change a thing
I wouldn't have missed a minute of the growth!"
But...Up in the attic, under the eaves,
Are treasures in boxes and old, old dreams.
We can never return to the once before...
God closes a window but he opens a door.
Kerrie O'Hearn Marquart