Box of Memories #memories #haiku

hat box

flower covered box
lily scented contents spill 
memories inside

inside the hat box

scent of orchids–
like a foreign country
the sickle moon

© Kobayashi Issa

The prompt at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai is Lily of the Valley. Something about that flower reminds me of my grandmother.

Thanks to friends like Charles Martin I am inspired each day to keep writing…

Bright are the Bows Brighter the Memories #thepast #poetry #holidays

“Life’s memories are like packages with bright bows” ~ L. Moon


I look at you from north, south, east, and west

like a cat I watch you and wait

sitting on the edge of expectation

don’t pretend that you are inert

you who shine with brilliant colors

holding poignant the past

underneath your cheerful bow

it is all I can do to be patient

“don’t shake the box”

I hear a cherished voice

one I thought I would never lose

every gift you wrapped

was filled with thought

down to a holly sprig or jolly elf

perched on top of the bow

what is inside this time?

recollections do play tricks

and you have to accept the mix

of jovial, spicy and sad

I’d rather not hear the crunch of paper

like the dead leaves of winter

I’d rather look at my reflection

of a much younger me

in precious grey old eyes

and remember the

Christmas Memory

Merry Christmas to each of you. May the songs that you hear and the scents that permeate your world bring you memories to keep you warm!!!

I Remember… #poetry #haiku #ancestors

“Remembrance is a form of meeting”.



confident your steps

songs echoed in difficult shadows

laughter’s memory


My grandmother was a pioneer, a lover of life, a survivor. When she was told to put her daughter in a facility for retarded children, she refused. She spent her years loving, laughing and shedding an occasional tear. I always wanted to have her spirit – I hope I succeeded.

Who is the ancestor in your life that brings a vibrant memory?

Today’s prompt at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai is “Ancestor”


The Key #poetry #photography #children


magical key

It opened so many doors

skeletal though in shape

my memories whirl

for a moment I escape


she had curly hair

a saucy cherub smile

she never got angry

well maybe once in a while


she gave me the key

it opened a world

my imagination

was unforgettably hurled


the day that she left

tears rose like the Sea

I wanted to lock

every sweet memory


now this hangs to remind

of the door to her heart

it never is closed

though we live far apart


The key above does in fact dangle off the handle off an antique. It originally opened the doors in my grandparent’s home.

My grandmother the queen of storytelling and opening the imagination of a small girl.

This week’s prompt for Poet’s United Midweek Motif  is Key

I also pulled this short story from my archives. This is the type story my grandmother would have told.

shiny key 1

The boy’s hands had been frozen cold by the snow. He shivered wondering if he had the strength to return home. He looked at the key. So tiny yet full of life; he could feel it. As the gold key turned in the box, the key began to grow and glow. “I am warm,” the boy said in cheerful surprise.

The fire he had hoped for sprung up around the key, but the boy was brave and touched the fire without being burned. He now knew this was no common key.

Though many people in the presence of magic ask for something to ease their lot, the boy was content to hold the warm key and box. The box got heavier until the boy reluctantly set it down on the ground. He held fast to the curious box fearful it would vanish.

The box became hot as it ignited from the key’s glow. The boy continued to hold on tight. As the flame grew more intense, the box, which revealed itself to be pure gold, became clear like glass. The boy expectantly peered inside. The only thing he could see was a plain gold ring. He reached in through the fire, grasped the flame filled ring, and placed it on his finger.

An onlooker would have seen a most magnificent thing on that cold frosty morn. A key, a box, and a ring transformed a boy to a knight. The glow about him melted the snow. A kaleidoscope of color mingled with the fire,  flowers sprung from the impotent earth, fruit sprouted on nearby trees, and life that had so long ago departed returned to the barren land.

Little did this simple boy know that he was chosen by the key for a mission. The knight would save many downtrodden soul in the cold, unrelenting world and provide golden hope for the besieged. Long after the knight was gone stories would be told, through the land, of the knight who carried warmth for all in his heart.



The Golden Key by the Fairy Tale masters the Grimm Brothers is the preface to this story.

I Belonged to Grandma #poetry

one key to her heart

I cannot remember

in what century I started

only you will know where I will end

In the hands  of a potter my form charted

in fine french porcelain he could depend


crated or hands carried me

though dropped a long time ago

I travelled across continent and sea

it was I guess my destiny

to become part of your large family


a grandmother’s wish and dream

to a young bride’s dowry

your taste has changed it seems

or is it loving memory

of a woman who gazed 50 years at me


more than 2 decades I grin

you have set me apart

never mind that I don’t fit in

for I always do in your heart

that I will always remember


 This very old piece of pottery never fit in with my other antiques but I have learned to love it all the same.


What’s the oldest thing you own? (Toys, clothing, twinkies, Grecian urns: anything’s fair game.) Recount its history — from the object’s point of view.

DP prompt for today – Antique Antics


All That’s Left #photography #memories #loved one #death


I feel her walk  in a whisper

scent of fresh linen wafts past

the crinkle of parchment

an old lighthearted  laugh

“Lavendar Blue”

through an old RCA

the taste of black licorice

and squeezed lemonade 

transport me back

to the ways of old

where the things black and white

were in stories you told

I clasp all that I have

a sepia of you

the memories inside

will have to get me through

Reflection #atozchallenge #sanfrancisco #napomo


A solitary figure looking

listening for you in the silent waters

For one moment I heard young  laughter

inspired by you


a much younger me

You  robed in wisdom

crowned in silver

we dance and sing

fairies from a younger time


discovery of cherished yellowed memories

reach into the blue

trace the reflection of you and I

ripples of giggles

I harken to new sounds of glee

grateful for the cycle of life

standing still I embrace you and I

at the Palais


It has been a joy to look into the reflection of the work of others over the past month of A to Z challenge where there are rare and beautiful treasures (writings and people). Please enjoy a memory that I pulled from a reflection into the past.

Photography: Palace of Fine Arts L. Moon 2010 ( believe it or not that is an iphone shot)

Christmas in My Heart #poetry #freeverse

Seeking for your memories

oh so hard to find

what corner do I look in?

what treasures in my mind?

I’ve lost so many memories

from a far and distant time

beautiful and simple world

many things left  behind

Running for a street car

bustle to and fro

“you are so like her

we just thought you should know”

Cheerful with a helping hand

this woman in my heart

you left me ohh too soon

for I’d barely had my start

Thinking back of Christmases

you’re in each and every one

bright colors and heavenly smells

I miss those years our fun

Grandma dear I’ll ner forget

the gifts you gave this child

I cradle them in my heart

I’ll always wear your smile