MEMENTOS
| I have a multitude of memories Stored safely in a trunk They're mementos that I treasure Though some would think them junk Mementos have a magic That return us to the past And again we live those moments That vanished all too fast This tin trunk and its treasures I treat with loving care Without the memories that they bring me My past would seem so bare Perhaps you'll find this boring So I'll mention just a few They bring memories that I cherish That I'd like to share with you Among my many treasures That many folk would scorn There's a tin cup, pipe, and locket And some slippers, tired and worn My father had a favourite cup And as a lad it seemed to me It was big enough to drown a whale Dad loved his cup of tea It was an old tin cup he'd fashioned When we lived on a farm And he treasured that old tin cup Like a precious lucky charm Dad would take it with him droving It went everywhere he went And at night he hung it proudly On the front pole of his tent It was constructed from a jam tin And it's very plain to see Where it had rested in hot embers To boil water for his tea He loved to sit around his camp fire When the stars were blazing bright And he'd drink tea from that old tin cup Deep into the night He loved to sip his tea so slowly From the cup that he loved most It even went with us on holidays When he'd take us to the coast Our farm was way out in the country And visitors were rare So mum set the table beautifully On the occasions guests were there Mum would try to hide dad's old tin cup But despite how she contrived It would be sitting on the table When the visitors arrived It was there for Christmas dinner And every meal we had It's a memento of a farmer And a very loving Dad Mum was presented with new slippers On the day that I was born And she clung to those old slippers Though the soles were badly worn She had much newer slippers But as the day turned into night She'd retrieve her battered slippers And put the new ones out of sight She washed those slippers regularly With perfumed, soapy stuff And though the uppers still look perfect She has scrubbed off all the fluff And even in her final years When she suffered so much pain She said that when she donned those slippers She was young again Those slippers are still spotless There's not a trace of scum They hold memories of a lady And a caring, perfect mum My grandfather Delaney Came from the Shamrock Isle He had eyes that seemed to twinkle And a warm, disarming smile He took his favourite old briar pipe Everywhere he'd go And the memory still shines clearly Of that briar pipe all aglow I would pester him for stories As soon as he'd arrive Because the way he told those stories He made them come alive Every moment I spent with him Was precious and so grand And he never told a story Without that briar pipe in his hand He was blessed with so much patience So intelligent and kind And he placed imagination In the hollows of my mind My Granny came from England So unassuming and yet proud She had that special quality That stands out in a crowd Tragedy had assaulted her But couldn't get her down She always wore a gentle smile I never saw her frown She lost her Aussie husband early And though she kept her grief in check His photo in a locket Always hung around her neck Her faith in God was legend But I never heard her preach And her standard of morality Was far beyond my reach The hardships that confronted her She always rose above Her inner strength amazed me But above all she had love She knew that she was dying And called me to her side And though I was so very young My heart swelled up with pride I idolised this woman She was all I hoped to be And the last words that she ever spoke She spoke those words to me She pressed her locket in my hand And said '"That's yours to keep. Please mind it very carefully While your granny is asleep." I have a tin trunk of such memories From which my interest will not stray For they're mementos of the loved ones Who did so much to pave my way As I gaze upon these items Such sweet memories unfold They refresh the happy moments That my heart will always hold These mementos weave their magic All my years they easily span And again I am transported From a child to aging man Perhaps I'm over sentimental But with not one would I part For each one brings back moments That so deeply touched my heart K.D. Abbott © 2009 |
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