Poem
Up in the attic
Hidden from view,
Are thousands of things
Not just a few
Things behind
Long in the past,
Buried and hidden
Thought never to last.
But now and then
Mind seems to stir,
On thoughts my mind
Seem to prefer.
Parents’ young
With songs unsung.
Children, grandkids
Yet unspun.
Years pass fast,
They simply fly.
Turning, winding
Spinning by.
We sang good songs
And spun strong kids.
More hidden treasures
Up for bids.
Memory treasures
Stored away.
All laid up
For another day.
This poem was written in 1994 by my mother-in-law. She's forgetful now but still writes wonderful poems. This is for you Mom:>
Hidden from view,
Are thousands of things
Not just a few
Things behind
Long in the past,
Buried and hidden
Thought never to last.
But now and then
Mind seems to stir,
On thoughts my mind
Seem to prefer.
Parents’ young
With songs unsung.
Children, grandkids
Yet unspun.
Years pass fast,
They simply fly.
Turning, winding
Spinning by.
We sang good songs
And spun strong kids.
More hidden treasures
Up for bids.
Memory treasures
Stored away.
All laid up
For another day.
This poem was written in 1994 by my mother-in-law. She's forgetful now but still writes wonderful poems. This is for you Mom:>