Memory Bowl

I found this neat idea in Where Women Create Magazine. Interior Designer Suzan Stoddard shares this idea of organizing small favorite items in a bowl.   I found Suzan's idea intriguing.  "When organizing I often discover small items that are disjointed".  She suggests taking a container, a bowl and place a variety of special finds to be discovered. Objects that might tell a story.  Gather up favorite small items, photos, etc. and arrange in a container, set in a location where they will be noticed. See what stories they conjure up.  I thought this might be fun to do for a poem.  Think of all the possibilities~


  I did this for a poetry prompt for Imaginary Garden of Real Toads .  I'm going to try to combine Poets United's prompt # 74 Winter....

 I couldn't find the bowl I wanted, but I had this thrift shop find and filled it with sentiment. Inside is a little wooden chair, a vintage lace glove(not mine), a wooden house, a tiny tea cup with Red Rose Tea,
a huge scallop shell, a photo of some art, I made  of my grandparents, Winona n' Clifford, a red cardinal, a bouquet of dried lavender, a cookie cutter I altered.

I thought of a snow globe, how our memories are shaken lose, when we display it.  We are reminded of the day we received it, our age, and who the gift was from. New mood is set, as the shaken snow gently falls. 




Swirls of snow detour day
shaken loose
sifted memories arrive
sprinkled with sentimental mist
powdered sugar sweets
stirred with a silver spoon
wakes a gentler time~

red cardinal chirps
chick a dee calls
waiting for me
black boots n' green woolen mittens
serving black oiled sunflower treats
snow fluttered lashes
watch
their joy~

Inside Nannie n' Papa
pouring tea
 oven dings
lemon sugar cookies tickle my senses
view of  frozen bay, sea fog rising
blurs into a celestial kiss~

Ivory keys tickled
soon my turn
a chair just for me, my spot
snow alters chimed view~

Pinkies up
warmth arrives
rosy cheeks hurt
liquid sunshine melts mood~

Turning the sheet music
lavender dreams caress my eternal pillow
white clouds hug me
They visit me, often in whispers~

Magic has fallen
blankets the Earth with glistening beauty
weather check
hope's porch
harboring treasure~




Once a week, I was invited down the street to my grandparents for tea. I did chores for them first, while the tea was being made and the cookies baked. After, my grandmother n' I would play the piano. My grandfather would then tell me one of his really tall tales.  They made magic out of the ordinary~