GRANDMA’S BOTTOM DRAWER
Most of us have heard of grandma’s old feather bed,
Her rocking chair, as she sat telling tales from her head,
But my grandma have an odd strange special place,
Full of many treasures to her, like lavender and lace.

She had an old chest of drawers as deep as could be,
The top drawer had gloves, scarves and a pretty hankie,
Next where she kept her underwear and silk stockings,
She would never show me those that would be shocking!

In the third drawer was where she kept her winter woollies,
Thick sweaters, cardigans and warm nighttime booties,
In the very bottom drawer, that was deeper than the others,
Were her very special things, those she called her treasures.

On days when she was feeling low, rather lonely and sad,
She would always show me her drawer, that made her glad,
Some love letters from grandad, killed in the great war,
A small piece of red carpet from her first home’s floor.

An ivory fan delicately carved with a long silk tassel,
Carried at the captains table on a homebound vessel,
A program and faded lace gloves worn for the jubilee,
A picture of her brother coming home from the sea.

A bundle of dried lavender tied with a little red bow,
With a lace heart from a nice young man named Joe
Not the good man I married she always used to say,
But my very first boy friend who just went away.

There was an old hymn book, pages faded and torn,
A picture of Jesus wearing His crown of cruel thorn,
Her old wedding picture in sepia, just her and grandad,
And the shoe off her wedding cake, stained and rather sad.

As she told me about each thing in her treasure trove so small,
She seemed to grow much younger, not old and wrinkled at all,
The years fell from her face as she remembered those happy days
And I learned much from grandma, and her old fashioned ways.

M Ann Margetson January 20, 2002