Granddads Basement
(copyright 2006 )

 “There is nothing down there but junk”. He would say.

 He’d let me go down there anyway.

 From the rafters hung, old model planes.

On the ping pong table, were stacks of board games.

There was a squirrel that crushed nuts, when you pulled on its tail.
A toy wooden boat that was missing a sail.

An ice Hockey rink that was made of tin,

by pulling the knobs you controlled all the men.

An old rocking horse with rusty springs

and a sailboat picture, made out of string.

A large plastic Santa for holiday cheer,

As well as a sleigh and a few reindeer.

Frogs made of shells, straight from the sea.

A shoebox full of skeleton keys.

He had a coat from the navy that no longer fit,

and a little glass bottle, with a ship inside it.

His collection of hats , piled as high as he could

a knight, jousting a windmill , carved out of wood.

A top that made sparks, when spun on the floor

and an out of date calendar nailed to the door.

By the window, hung gourd’s, that were busy drying

and half finished box kites, meant for flying

He had model rockets, some big and some small

And cast iron pipes ran down every wall

 “Nothing but junk”. He said, “You see?”

But when I look back now...it was treasure to me.