TREASURES

TREASURES

You wonder what the two pieces
of driftwood
means to me.
They had casually been thrown up on the shore.

Pieces of beauty that travelled far
they have so much to tell
Of oceans, people, fear and hope.

If I were a painter with the fame of Van Gogh
I might paint it so you could see.
It is not just discarded wood.

They were polished by life
Roughened by salt and sand

Battered whilst still in human domain.

I shall sand them, gently polish
with natural oil.
Then make an honoured corner with
Driftwood and shells.

© miriam ivarson

photos by miriam ivarson

WHERE IS IT NOW

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I wrote the poem / lyric below a couple
of weeks ago and smiled at its seeming 
childishness. Snippets of strong memories
we all have but what is this. A song? A poem?

Listening to people in America talk with such
glow about Thanksgiving and family togetherness
I revisited this poem and realised.
It is just that, praise and gratitude to a home 
and people who made it so warm and safe.

So, with this I wish you across the Atlantic a
Happy Thanksgiving and all of us gratitude to 
love given in any form.

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WHERE IS IT NOW

I once had a dream
such a beautiful dream,
But the dream flew elsewhere;

I now wonder, where is it now,
is the ether keeping it away?

I once had a doll from Aberdeen,
I loved her so dearly
She even could say ‘mama’,

I often wonder, where is she now,
did the loft fairy take her away?

I once had Red skiing boots,
they were so very new,
Smelled sweet and shone,

I wonder, where are they now,
are they still skiing, all red?

I once had a hut high among the rocks,
we built it ourselves,
It was a most wonderful place.

I just wonder, is it still there,
home for other young to dream?

All the treasures I once had
that gave me so much joy,
they still make me warm;

I only wonder, as they live in my heart
are they happy,
Knowing they are loved?

© miriam ivarson

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