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and an out of date calendar nailed to the door.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.
