My Fondest Memory

On the first of every month Grandpa trimmed his salt and pepper beard Polished his big black shoes to a shine Put on a crisp shirt and creased trousers Held by a weathered leather belt For his trip to the bank to collect his pension He bought sweets and snacks of many kinds Then neatly folded old newspaper to Make square pieces with a knife Placed each grandchild’s share in those fresh plates And waited for them to arrive Felt like a festival each month We rushed exceptionally fast from school Trotting to his room to claim our share He then pressed a coin in each one’s hand Unleashing dreams of what all we could buy with that Rest of the bounty He stored in a rectangular wicker basket Secured with a tiny steel lock The key to the trove he shared only with me because I was the favorite grandchild And that was a fact, not a secret My brothers and sisters flattered and cajoled me Till the lock hung on the basket Everyone kowtowing to the crown Grandpa put on my head Glittering with his love and trust How I was the queen for a week each month! Written on:12/10/2016