I have a shelf, it’s my very own place
Dressed in the finery of crocheted lace.
Daintily I sit with a smile upon my face
As memories in my mind I lovingly trace.



The little girl that I long ago knew
Into a sophisticated young lady she grew.
I am among one of the privileged few
Not to be replaced by the improved or the new.



No dust on my ledge, it’s always clean
My lady keeps me pure and pristine.
In a prominent place befitting a queen
She displays me with pride, by all to be seen.



Once in awhile her presence I grace
And she removes me from this special place.
She shares with me a day in her rat race
The memories in her mind she does longingly trace.


© 2002 Ruth Norman