The Curio Cabinet
Another season nears its end
closing the doors on the dreams we played pretend
in the days we hoped would never end;
a place where times are unchanged secure in their shells,
endeared moments regained within a magic spell
of holidays and holydays renamed, long memory held;
the antique reservoir of child and adult things
knickknack recalls of earlier life scenes,
glass framed doors in their revealed etchings
the items of fading Christmas collections
angels, shepherd, manger scene recollections
when moments are shared with love and perfection.
Close the doors, clean the glass, dust the trinkets off
the memories are stored that ever hide beneath the coif
hold them close, embrace them within your heart soft,
the season closes in on the once opened doors
and suddenly within the somber quiet
Christmas is hidden behind the curio doors.
Copyright © DM Babbit | Year Posted 2021
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