The Junk Store

There is adventure, just waiting, as I open the door A tiny bell sings a tinkle, (old lyrics, perhaps) To a place of discovery... inviting me in... But offers in fact, enough excitement to thrill me I often drop by, one chance for a glance A dingy old store ..., this place I adore.. I scour the junk, the discarded old trunk, a bit of history in disguise Elbow to elbow, wall to wall...a sea of collectibles to capture my eyes Upon every visit, a brand new dilemma...how will I decide in the gloom? How can I use this? Should I buy that? Will I have room? Nothing like it in the world! Nothing so lovely, oh how I love this little shop! Will it be cheap?....Something lost in a heap?....It beckons me to stop! As the lifting down from the dusty shelves, the musty scent of wood Telling a story...pungent and sweet....restore it?....I could!! That antique rocker, perhaps it was lonely....so lost and cold Or those dusty dishes...on the shelf...I rub off the grime..the flowers are gold! Oh yes...I could give it new life....let it see sun, won't it be fun?! Buried beneath the rubbish.....where do I begin? A treasure, I'll think...Soon after the clink that nourishes a till For mere pennies...I will haul it home...paint, polish or shine...that's the thrill! How divine! Once it was theirs..., lost in a time zone...now it is mine... Swift on the track of the years that had left it behind....