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Each small ornament reminds me of you

I always considered you littered my home,
Small knickknacks adorning overcrowded shelves.
The marble statues you bought from lovely Rome,
I leave them there, a memory of ourselves.

And in gay Paris, you just went mad with joy
Those miniatures saucers, jugs and a vase,
Insisting each was her special lovely toy,
Dainty trivialities, there's no more space.

But without Limoges, can one live a true life?
She packed them carefully thus to take back home.
Porcelain I had to pay for my dear wife,
How tired I was, each elegant shop to roam. 

Such charms, rings, bracelets, miniature houses
Lured by magnetic charms, earrings and pendants,
From Upim*, Milan she bought tens of blouses 
At Lafayette, I waited in attendance.

She's left me with all these little ornaments
Beautiful up to a point I must admit;
Shall I cherish them for what each represents?
Give to charity or leave them in my writ?

NB Upim is a superstore in Italy.

Copyright © Victor Buhagiar