Keepsakes Poems - Poems about Keepsakes

MEMORY VAULT BACK UP KEEPSAKES

WHAT A BLESSING HAVING AN AEROSPACE ENGERINEER DRONE PILOT FOR A GRANDDAUGHTER 8 CHILDREN 26 GRANDCHILDREN OUR MEMORIES ARE SO PRICELESS MY HOME WAS BROKEN INTO IRONICALLY THE THIEVES CLONED MY PHONE TRIED TO DELETE MY LIFE CRAZY STALKERS THEY WERE OLD PHONES 7 OLD CELL PHONES ALL THE DATA SAFETY STORED THESE OLD PHONES

Keepsakes of a Snow Day

speckled snow and bootprints,
French coffee sips, tire-treads,
leftover leaves like birdy wings.
upside-down pizza, for such
an occasion, slips from cast iron.
the blending of sausage balls,
pepperoni, baby bellas, onion,
jalapeno, parmesan, mozzarella,
provolone, seasoned sauce
and browned crust, unlike the classic -
a finger kiss satisfaction. drip drip
drip of icicles forming, branches
covered in powdered confection.
a snowball, formed by my honey,
in freezer, for

Unkept keepsakes

The t.v. series,
A Little Princess,
reminds me
of my dad's gift
of a dark-haired
porcelain doll...

...I gave away
to compensate
for feeling spoiled
--that I begged
for her at all

Being a generous
gift-giver was one
of my dad's
main languages 
of love

I hope even though 
I've hardly kept 
any of his gifts
he still cares--
up above

Keepsakes

The heart, like the mind, has a memory, and in it are 
kept the most precious keepsakes.
                                 ~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow


Today, I opened my

Keepsakes

In an old biscuit tin 
With my bits and pieces put in
That remind me of our times
And things that are always mine

I take them out sometimes
For reminding me of a memory fine
Each piece wiped bright again
Before placed carefully back in

I only bring them out when I’m alone
So my tears are not to you shown
Their touch

Keepsakes

If you are stamped by life—you will never fly.
            Keep hold of your dreams – life may be bleak.
My mom looked up and said, "Who are you, hey?"
I said, "This is my wife and your grandkid's streak."
       

My Sister's Secret Box

In my older sister’s special lavender box she kept
All of her finest treasures secretly hidden away
Stashed under the bed where we as children slept.

When I unwittingly discovered the box, she wept
Because I had found her prized hidden cache
In my older sister’s special lavender box she kept

Valentines and letters I had literally over-slept
In that box tied

Keepsakes, Loved and Lost

I found a treasure chest I thought I'd tossed,
filled with memories of my childhood days
and precious keepsakes I had loved and lost,
tea party guests, who were with me, always.

Filled with memories of my childhood days,
there were two brown bears that I'd befriended,
tea party guests, who were with me, always.
How often their seams had to be

Keepsakes

Keepsakes
by Michael R. Burch

"... put out my hand and touched the face ..."

I caress them—trapped in yellowing cellophane—
and I see how young they were, and how unwise;
and I remember their first flight—an old prop plane,
their blissful arc through alien blue skies ...

And I touch them here through leaves which—tattered, frayed—
are also wings, but wings that

Keepsakes

notable notations
have become keepsakes
collectable paper scrapes 
with no book or look
remotely resembling their own
bits of envelope, napkin, and such
whatever happens to be handy
when that mood strikes
and i am compelled 
by undeniable urges
to write something down

i have yet to figure out
why these bits of notation
seem so important to me
years later, i rarely remember them
and even on

Keepsakes From Mom

Keepsakes From Mom

You left me your Butterfly pins, your coin collection too,
Albums’ full of photographs, and several pairs of shoes,
Grandma’s Bible and Opera Glasses, also still have a place,
These keepsakes have memories, that can never be erased.

Written By: Sarita A. Milliner © 12/15/16

Life Commodities, Keepsakes

LIFE’S COMMODITIES  ©

Nails and screws ‘mate’ together
But nails puncture tires when misdirected
Another’s love loss is another’s gain
Love bites break hearts into little pieces
Commodities here today, gone tomorrow
Replaceable parts are ‘outnumbered’ one to none
Do or die in the here/after--- ‘suicide’
Life will rot to its very core
Thrown aside ‘punted’ fore-ever more
Rebirthed and planted it will grow

Stone Keepsakes

Love lingers, in the objects of stone left behind,
holding pleasing recollections of welcome footfalls;
the painful memories, most, spent of love declined.

Those last few months of harborless shores, the squalls 
fade, as I gaze on the jade keeper left bedside,
holding pleasing recollections of welcome footfalls.

The blade of horn, carved with love's protection, bides.
An owl of stone

Keepsakes

His jazz collection fills the spare bedroom
Music man, you see, was his nom de plume

Our wedding album rests on the nightstand
A keepsake for my viewing on demand

The tarnished silver comb that stroked his hair
Lays on the dresser beside his easy chair

The carnation he wore on our wedding day
A keepsake preserved in a glass display

The love

Keepsakes

In my soul’s attic
Old photographs in a trunk
Faded but not junk

By Robb A. Kopp
All Rights Reserved © MMX

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