Musings of an Aspiring Author and Poet

Looking Through Boxes

March 11, 2014

Poetry

Looking through boxes,

Rummaging through bags,

Scouring cupboards,

Searching for my treasure of youth.

No, it holds no great monetary worth,

Really its nothing but a novelty.

Red and White soup can labels exchanged for it,

Cherub-faced little boy stamped at the bottom.

That was me back then,

Before time changed things.

Like me, its glaze has weathered,

Whiteness has turned yellow with age.

Its smooth skin is showing cracks,

The pristine edge flawed and jagged

Still it serves its purpose as designed.

My Campbell’s Soup bowl–chipped,

Would be trash to many,

But to me it is a priceless treasure.

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

PROMPT: A chipped bowl

Tuesdays Conundrum 11 March by Jez Farmer at The Boi Poet blog

Comments

13 responses to “Looking Through Boxes”

Widow Beach

March 11, 2014

No man can put a price on another’s treasure.

Reply
1. Dom DiFrancesco
  
  March 12, 2014
  
  How very true that is. When I think about it it really is quite amazing. :)
  
  Reply
Bookwraiths

March 11, 2014

Beauty and meaning found in a comparison of such a simple thing. Wonderful poetry as always.

Reply
1. Dom DiFrancesco
  
  March 12, 2014
  
  Thank you very much.
  
  Reply
RoSy

March 11, 2014

The things that we see as treasures…
:)

Reply
1. Dom DiFrancesco
  
  March 12, 2014
  
  That’s for sure. It’s amazing isn’t it. :)
  
  Reply
  1. RoSy
    
    March 12, 2014
    
    Indeed. :)
elainedanforth

March 11, 2014

What a sweet remembrance!

Reply
1. Dom DiFrancesco
  
  March 12, 2014
  
  It certainly is. :)
  
  Reply
Jeremy Farmer

March 11, 2014

This really made me smile as I have a very chipped tea cup which belonged to my great grandma – nothing would make me part with it.

Reply
1. Dom DiFrancesco
  
  March 12, 2014
  
  I understand completely, It’s amazing how something so small, something most other people would regard as rubbish could turn out to hold so much value.
  
  Reply
kdavisfanclub

March 12, 2014

I have a lot of empathy with this, magical history and so many memories in those bags and boxes, a true wealth of experience that we neglect, will our children understand our legacy? I keep meaning to make notes to leave in the bags and boxes to explain why it was important to keep, its funny how we can’t let go of some things, even small things that are painful to recall but simultaneously delicious to reacquaint oneself with. There’s another poem here somewhere, Dom, thanks for sharing and sincere best wishes.

Reply
1. Dom DiFrancesco
  
  March 12, 2014
  
  Same to you my friend. It is odd how sometimes the littlest things can mean so much more than things of true monetary value. I know that my kids, at this point in their lives wouldn’t understand. I can only hope that someday they will.
  
  Reply