Janey May

Dust drifts through the air as she lifts the lid,
and coats the worn aged oak.
Pale rays through yellowed lace curtains brightens the dull paint
as she digs through the toy box brimming with forgotten things.

Janey May picks up her bottle, 

flicks her bib and grabs her toys.
She shoves past her dolls and digs
under her ball and sticks of glue.

She flutters through crafts and flips
through coloring books.
Tosses her crayons, 

Red, Green and blue. 

Janey May cradles her jewelry box

and hums to its tune.
She caresses her stuffed billy
and grazes over its fur.

She pushes past lipsticks, powders
blushes, glosses and more.

Nudges away training bras, barrettes,
and hair bands glittery or flowers still hanging on

The toy box became withered and old 

paint chips flick off flowers traced in gold.

Hinges and screws wiggle and groan
as she tunnels through the layer of old clothes. 

Janey May filters through her things and handles them
with care. 

You see, she grew old a day or so ago
She gathers her things tripping over lost socks,
scattered cards, and dreams.

Passes her wall scattered with images.
The degree, the marriage, 

The kids come next and theirs follow after
All leading to her bed thats covered with flowers  

Reviews

[pinpen]

this one made me stop and think, Very vivid imagery and detail.