September-5-2025
More than a Soft Toy Poetry Contest
Sponsor. Natasha .L. Scragg
I had a lovely little doll got at the tender age of seven. It was made of fine plastic, with twinkling eyes and golden hair. At a time when my generation had not heard of Barbie dolls, My uncle living abroad had gifted it which I held as most dear. More than anything I treasured it and my friends envied me. They always rallied around to see and hold it in their hands. I carried it wherever I went and always slept clutching it. With its possession, to my parents, I made no more demands. It looked so pretty in her flitting blue eyes and ponytail. Dressed in frilled skirt and blouse, she was a beauty and my all. We were always together day in and out, so inseparable. But as time skipped, she no more held me in thrall. I slowly got over my obsession with toys and trinkets. My bond with the doll grew thinner, I had diverse engagements. I no more cared for my doll; it lay neglected in some dusty corner. Seasons rolled and years speeded by, and life took new alignments. I knew the annual clean-up of my house was long overdue. Moving the trash, I saw my old doll in a junk box made of plywood. The very sight brought a surge of sweeping emotions in me Dusting it, I locked it up in my cabinet, a sweet reminder of my childhood!
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