Simple Little Pretty Things

Solitaire stood the glass clown, next to the crystal carousel.

On a shelf filled with tiny what-nots

that you always loved so very well.

Simple little pretty things,

All placed with care, and filled with dreams.

Like your delicate paintings on the wall,

which for some reason, always hung askew.

 Then there are the photographs of all the children

taken with Kodak's, Cannons, and Minoltas too.

From times when they were little,

until they finished school.

Oh how strong our memories cling

to such treasured and inanimate things.

Yet time and age has brought unto me this sad chill,

As I ponder and scrutinize the listings

Of who gets  this and who gets that on our final will.

Yet this I must ask…

 who is worthy of your tiny glass clown

The one that made you smile amidst tears

In spite of its cold and bitter frown.

Who to shall all this we leave?

For I am burdened with question,

And confounded by hesitation.

For I wonder still….

Shall the benefactor of this glass clown

With its sad little face…will they love it….

Will they love it as you have loved them?

Or will they discard it without ever

realizing what it is truly worth.

Or will they treasure it as you have

after all these wonderful years together on this earth.

It is of these things… it is of this will,

It is of the treasures of our simple life,

It is of the happiness that our love has fulfilled.

So pray tell…how can I leave all this that you love so best,

To another that shall merely regard it as Mom and Pops mess.

I swear, I think, I would rather see it all melt into a fiery sky

the very moment in time that we bid this world good-bye.

J. Allen Wilson © 2005