Grandma's Attic
A shrine to memories,
Of Grandma's life.
According to Grandad,
The Pack Rat's paradise.
Hour upon hour,
In fascination we explored.
Plain brown boxes,
Filled with Gran's treasure hord.
Opening each in turn,
Like a birthday gift to unwrap.
In awed expectation,
We would pull back each flap.
A moth eaten handbag,
Once carried to a dinner or dance.
Baby bibs and booties,
For the uncles and aunts.
Books and pictures,
From children's school days .
Letters tied with ribbon,
Now yellowed with age.
Hats, scarves and coats,
Trimmed with brown fur,
Long waisted dresses
Fitting one, petite and demure.
A veritable fashion parade,
For two curious girls.
Their imaginations as flawless,
As Gran's favorite pearls.
By: Graci