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tin box

A collector of tin boxes in all shape and disarray. the older the better but the new welcome too. It started with a house full of buttons that i will play look here that one gone escaped the pullover. In my pocket I will look for the next tin as my mother knitted the great escape. Crayon to melt a stamp and shell not gasoline I alway found the necessary to amuse me. Now a doyen I open the tins and travel the child as a homeless I remember the saving of a soul. Got my house but the tins part of my life and still searching for the best one. If such a thing i found today toasted and discarded the disc for a massive ragga jungle. A surprise to find what i will put in it may be a wisp of air to soar the delusion.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016




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Date: 12/10/2016 6:45:00 PM
Hello Catherine, I just finished reading your poem.I enjoyed it. I have two tin boxes one for my hair pins,and the other for earrings. One box has kittens on it. The other a classic look. I am always on the look for tin boxes.
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catherine labeau
Date: 12/30/2016 11:34:00 AM
my two favorites are the same house given to two sister in their late teens. one was my mother and the other my aunt. they show the difference of their life style. one is dented and faded, the other is pristine but both were full of buttons at one time and now rest on my shelves as I write about both.