SOMEONE'S TRASH IS SOMEBODY'S TREASURE
(The Story Behind Hoarding Souvenirs)
My home is packed with souvenirs
Paperwalled by books, curios, and furnitures
Not kind of antiques worthy of the appraisal's gaze
Yet, I valued them like precious gold.
They came as gifts from friends so kind
Acquaintances and colleagues with generous heart and mind
From ancient folks whom I've been endeared
Others were sent by post over the miles.
In my home are boxes and boxes of photographs, stamps and postcards;
Journals of my life's journey and scribbled notes of blurbs;
Some are decades-old letters I can't discard
And mementos from every place where I travelled far.
On many occasions I went to church, community and school fetes
And places like the Rotary Sunday Markets
Where locals were vending pre-loved old wares owned by deceased estates
Interesting finds were tempting which compelled compulsions.
My home is filled by these unique finds
Bought from fetes and markets at good bargain price
They're someone's trash indeed
Ended to be somebody's treasure!
Old age is now taking its tool.
It's time to let go of my hoardings.
Forbid not, I hope whoever will own them next
Will take special care of these earthly sentiments.
©Leah C. Dancel
Copyright@2021
All rights reserved
SH-Australia
November 6, 2021
A Collaboration with Divina Cruz Tagaza
Theme: Giving sentimental value to precious useful items that have been a part of us.
