PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Small wooden jewelry box,

treasured by mother's bed.

Gift passed down by grandmother,

that intrigued me as a child.

Hours I traced mother on the lid,

then carefully opened,

and the smell of cedar lifted my spirits.

It was filled with meaningless knick knacks,

except eloquent strand of pearls caught my eye.

I pretended to know each piece,

imagined my grammy wearing them.

My mother handed me this gift

and yesterday my daughter gaze into the memories.