Memories in a suitcase

Our loft is full of stuff we haven’t looked at for most of our lives.

 But it stays up there in the hope that some day, some one will find it useful!

There are a number of large cardboard boxes, each one labelled with one of our children’s names. The idea being that one day they will excitedly open a box and find all the schoolbooks, reports and old toys they thought had been thrown out years ago.

This poem was written when we moved house.

The suitcase

We dragged it down

 wiped off the years of dust

And opened up the past.

There they were

the old schoolfriends

smiling and unchanged

just as I remember them.

Lined up

on a leafy lawn

squinting into a summer sun.

“Andrea tries hard at games”

it said in my report book.

Funny that

because I can still remember

hiding in the cloakroom

and not trying very hard

at games at all.

“Andrea would do better if

she paid a little more attention.”

Dear Miss Turner

I well remember you

with your curtain ring earrings

and black lacy tights

It was the only lesson where

the boys chose to sit

in the front row.

Faded, yellow scrapbook

with pictures that must have had

some meaning for me

once upon a time.

Love notes

from loved ones

so dear

I cannot now remember

them at all.

Autographs from the past

We all meant to keep in touch

So sad that we all have to grow up

and grow old

And memories are consigned

to suitcases

and gather dust in attics.

The suitcase went back in the loft. And is still there 27 years later! 
© Andrea Neidle, My Life in Poems

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