Best Heirloom Poems

I lay within a drawer so long
Loneliness was my heart's song

My diamonds never saw the light of day
Since granma's death,I'd been that way

Her grandson went a'courting strong
Maybe my exile now,will not last long

He brought home his bride-to-be
Glowing with pride,for his parents ,to see

He slipped me...

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This precious heirloom from my grandma
is more than a little bit worn.
Sewn with infinitely tiny stitches,
it was much used  before I was born.

She was just twenty- three when she sewed it.
Her beloved was fighting a war.
Made I would guess for her hope chest, ...

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If for poems you have a knack
Punch them out and don’t cut slack
For fame is just one measure
That marks a poem a treasure
So keep on gifting poems uplifting
Well deserving of preserving
Each one placed inside some album
For descendants as an heirloom....

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obvious fake
priceless
Grandma’s ring

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(C) John C Michaels, March 2017...

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Harry is heartbroken,
his wonderful mother
has died. He passes her
heart shaped gold locket to
her great granddaughter. She
hugs him and places the
heirloom around her neck.

Contest  H Pleiades
Sponsored by Kim Merryman

02 18 17...

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bland, tatty, old vase
no monetary value
mantel’s pride of place

------------------------------------

(C) John C Michaels, March 2017...

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A knitted quilt lays on my bed's divan
Needled by Grandma, generations ago
Its wool fiber pliant and wide enough
To keep the family cuddled in bonfire eves
Sheltering me now, her heirloom's gift.



C T Contest: Wool
Jan 17, 2016...

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Nature’s Heirloom

The air is so fresh at start of morning
And earth sparkles with diamanté dew
Everything looking bright and adorning
When sunshine appears to worldwide eye view
And sweet whimsical birdsong is heard too
Aromatic flowers when in full bloom
Are stupendous lit up by stars and moon
God gifted us...

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Mama got the pot
at her neighbor’s garage sale
sixty years ago.
It outlived her and
will feed her son, and his child
and his children’s children
long after he’s done using it
as his snare drum....

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The earth is shaking and fire everywhere
The wind sounds like a trumpet in the air
Words from the mountain ablaze in the stone
Now lay in pieces with rubble and bone
Forever adrift in the veiled black space
The golden record whats left of this place...

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iridescent pearls
rope of beaded memories
family heirloom 


Pixabay image by: Myriam-Fotos...

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Back when I was
        just among the company's rank and file,
                     my 'rolex oyster perpetual'
   ...

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In the antique store
an old physician’s desk,
walnut and marble-topped,
holding the remnants of a life
of service; 
stories etched in 
wood, metal and stone.

Next to part of an old syringe,
a can of ether, half full;
it’s lid rusted shut
and a stethoscope
sporting the cracked rubber
tubing, of a bygone era.
A...

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Your mother’s glass. The only one in the cabinet that
does  not  match  the others.  It’s  beautiful.    Purple

crystal scattered on linoleum like a layer of fine
mauve  dust.  The  first  tear  falls  from...

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HEIRLOOM

Unearthliness of this endless wood of colorless shadows.
I’m encompassed by the condemnation of prison bars
in the shape of ancient bark. I’m hidden where time slows
in constant consternation of wolves and diminutive stars.
The apathy of skeleton branches mocks the reverence of red.
I’m wrapped in my great-grandmother’s...

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