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| Treasured Memories |
The warm wind rustles the leaves in the trees.
The sounds the smells take me to past summers in a wondrous time.
Swinging on the old bench swing under the trees.
Staring at the patterns of the patchwork quilts that covered the seat.
Laying there staring into the canopy of leaves.
Watching my grandma tend her garden. Oh what a garden it was.
Rich dark soil that brought forth the most wonderful carrots of all time.
She would let us pull them up, rinse them off and eat them right there.
Discovering wonderful treasures in the basement.
The old washing machine with the rollers and hand crank
and the jars and jars of preserves. Oh the yummy raspberry jam!
The old metal ranch house, cowboys and indians past down from our parents.
The ugly duckling coloring book I know most of her grandchildren colored in
and the puzzles I must have put together hundreds of times
Standing in the kitchen at night with the lights off,
watching the lights of the cars and trucks on they highway far in the distance.
Making kazoos out of combs and wax paper.
Three full meals a day; breakfast, dinner and supper.
She would make us eat so much. At her house you would never starve.
For a treat fresh raspberries from her garden with a little dusting of sugar.
Grand central station, linking the kitchen, bathroom and bedrooms.
During the day just a big room with a desk and plants,
but at night, the big elk head on the wall was a scary monster!
The little treasure box she would send home with us when it was time to go home.
Usually and old cigar box with little trinkets she found for us here and there.
To me they were priceless treasures I held onto for years.
Now the treasure box is tucked safely away. It is not a cigar box.
It is the collection of special memories forever kept in my heart.
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Posted by alleen on 2008-02-26 01:41:16 | Rating: | Views: 100
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