Mothers'....Fathers'....etc

Because of the story of me and Stephen ,it reminded me of a poem I wrote when in a creative writing class, and want to share it...here it tis' ... this is about the attic on the old farm from my memories and dreams...

The Attic

Attic rooms galore,

filled with treasures,

one hundred fifty years or more.

One room, hats, hoops, shoes with buttons,

long flowing black dresses, white petticoats and camisoles,

a wooden box with jet black beads,

hair pins, hand mirrors, combs and brushes.

Another room, my favorite sometimes,

widow with tattered curtains, once crisp and clean,

old metal bed big feather mattress on its springs,

old chest of drawers in the corner,

next to an old chair.

Another, . . . leather bound books,

large and small chest, footlockers,

dishes, vases, canning jars, chamber pots, rug beaters,

a family Bible and more, . . .

things in the attic,

my imagination soars. . . .