MEMORIES BINNED:

I am now old, grey & a collector of too many things,

Old furniture, books, toys, bits, pieces, beads & rings,

Now you walk into my life & home, to sort it all out,

Touching, lifting & as if I were deaf, deemed to shout.

Please don´t throw out that ring, it was given with love,

Nor that honeymoon memento, the plate with the dove,

Leave that old blanket, in which I wrapped all my babes,

Nor the sepia snap of my children, swimming in waves.

The old teddy, belonged to my mama when she was a girl,

And that old gold locket holds my grandma´s silvered curl,

The tattered suitcase, it holds my life, children & marriage,

And the faded red rose, once tied to our old bridal carriage.

I know these things to you, are just piles of old mouldy tat,

Chipped cup, frayed lace, torn page of book & old straw hat,

But if I throw it all out, I shall have, against a lifetime sinned,

My life, my loves, all my existence, gone in memories binned.