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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required My wife found an Indonesian drum that she couldn’t live without, It was a ceremonial one used to play for all who remain devout. It had brightly colored beads and paint to decorate its side, And it grabbed her by the imagination and would not be denied. “Are you sure that we can do this, are you sure that it won’t unravel? This thing isn’t exactly portable and it isn’t built for extensive travel.” “We’ll make it work,” is all she said and then she handed it to me, It was clear that from that moment on it was my responsibility. This drum and I traveled together throughout the great Northwest, And the both of us stayed together wherever I became a guest. I carried it through the airport one day and then back again the next, This is exactly why air travel always leaves me feeling so perplexed. I transported it through the concourse then down to baggage claim, Making sure to keep the crowds at bay, drum safety was my aim. Carefully I loaded the Indonesian drum into the backseat of my truck, Only one more hour on the road and then we’d be home with any luck. When we pulled into our drive it was the first thing that I took inside, Bringing it from Washington State and then delivering it with pride. I set it on the kitchen counter then I went out for the rest of our bags, Our Bloodhound was so happy to see us both and to sniff at all the tags. The time change had effected us so we thought that before we took a seat, We had better go out and find ourselves something good to eat. So we patted the dog on his head and said that we’d be right back, But as soon as we’d left again he decided it was time for a little snack. We thought that Chinese sounded good so we went and got us some, But Sherlock was left at home alone with a taste for Indonesian drum. When we got back home the drum lay there with one side chewed away, And the expression on Sherlock’s face said that he was ready to play. So now we have an Indonesian drum with one side turned out of sight, It has the teeth marks turned to the wall so you can’t see the Sherlock bite. If you should ask my wife about her drum I can grantee a fluster, I can also tell you that for at least one day Sherlock lost his luster. But what is the meaning of a souvenir, is it only for decoration? Or is meant for something else? Is it more of a declaration? Because if it is meant to bring out conversation and try to evoke a story, Then this is exactly what our drum does now that it’s in our inventory.
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