I believe we need both worlds,
love worn and shiny new.
So my home is a menagerie
of antiques and technology.
Our love is like that, darling,
wrapped with care in a worn quilt.
One made by grandma’s girl friends,
giggling over tales of love making.
Our home is built sturdy and safe.
A nest to string popcorn or knit on a loom.
The curiosity shop 'round the corner
adds treasures to family heirlooms.
Those special pieces speak to me;
a porcelain doll with a chipped foot.
She pleaded to be taken home
to sit next to a Uncle Remus book.
A maple cradle from the early 1900's
is a home for old rag dolls with new button eyes.
Poetry books with handwritten notes
find their place in my writing nook.
I bring out my antique tea set,
cream with tiny strawberries and gold rims.
Like Grandmother did, I read tea leaves
while my calico cat watches with a sly grin.
All families have stories to tell,
alive with heroes and ghosts that roam.
Skeletons laugh and cry in our closets,
I believe we need to bring them home.
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