Collected by Elizabeth Haley-Wood
I write silly verses in birthday cards
Add doodles at Christmas
And give poems away.
Each piece is a little of me
Left for those I love.
Drafts of poems and half-written lines
Like little raindrops
Are splattered about my life.
My signatures scuttle across
Even those only virtually there.
And as I write another note
Of insignificance, I wonder
Will they ever come for me?
The hunters and gatherers
Searching for the scraps
Those tiny bits of me
Left to gather dust.
Shopping lists could be artefacts
Valued way above their content
Of tins of beans and loaves of bread.
An old postcard scrawled out with little thought
A faded memory of a seaside jaunt
Breaking News! – for nonsensical rarity
As snippets of my past
That is yet to come
Are cast about as art,
In some future unknown.
Some day …
Where posters may adorn
Walls of libraries and such
Declaring my name as the author I long to be.
Taking on more worthy lots
Bidded out nostalgically.
I wonder, then, absurdly as it seems
It happens to others – will it happen to me?
So I write this down
One day this collection of letters
Could be more valued than me!
And at once I can dismiss it
What nonsense it seems
But, still – one can always dream…
##~~##~~## dreaming of my future??