The Junk Drawer

A crash…..
an insipid stash
of marigold seeds and batteries…

These are the places dreams take me…
To Mom’s catch-all drawer, you see…

Fifty years of memory brings
the sight of her random things.
Though the drawer is gone,
along with mother’s song….
the memory is strong – and still clings.

A bobby pin for sister’s hair…
A pinochle deck for Friday night’s flare.

A rusty flashlight never used,
One or two of the old glass type fuse.

Saint cards from forgotten funerals,
Flash cards with letters and numerals.

A cork screw and a safety pin,
Scamper’s leash was also within.

Top Value stamps were there by score,
That yellow licking I abhored!

Mother’s kitchen was no where to be!
She scooted us out daily……..

But when her back was turned
I oft heroically earned
the right to peek inside.

For if ever a bobble could hobble a boy,
it’s those that Mother prized…..

And I think, (as it was pretty plain,)
but guessing it was her little detour,
Because atop all the junk “the belt” was lain –
A sure omen to stay out of her drawer!

,

,

© 2013 John Allen Richter

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About johnallenrichter

I am an aspiring Poet and adorer of life, a conqueror of nothing. However I am a champion curator of truth and friendship and hold both of those things most dearly to my heart. Welcome to my mind's eye. I hope you will enjoy what you may find and please know that you have a friend here. View all posts by johnallenrichter

4 responses to “The Junk Drawer

  • Margaret

    Ah, yes – the junk drawer. I was always fascinated by the top of my Grandmothers dresser and her top drawer – her short white gloves and clips for her hose. She had a beautiful mirror and brush set and a fancy talcum powder jar – maybe I should write a poem about it 🙂

    Love the memories each item brings and laughed at the belt at the end! Does anyone play pinochle anymore? Loved this nostalgic poem.

    • johnallenrichter

      Hi Margaret…. Honestly I never played Pinochle. Never learned the game. In my day children were to be seen and not heard. Only the adults played. So one never asked “Why play this card, or why play that?” Instead my brother and I trotted off to our room, enjoying the forgotten/extended bedtime hour by donning socks on our fists and beating each other senselessly! We fantasized we would become the next Quarry brothers boxing phenomenon. We were quite stupid, though today I blame that on my older brother. He doesn’t remember much of it. I blame my extremely well tuned right hook for that. Euchre seemed to be the game of choice for our generation. Though i soon learned that I had become my father by mumbling under my breath the disappointment of my partners call….. 🙂

  • David King

    Yes, I too recall Granny’s junk drawer – but you daren’t call it that!

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