My grandma had a dark blue brooch.
It was just glass, few pennies' worth.
Held to the light, it flashed, as bright
As all the diamonds on earth.
My 'treasure chest' full to the brim
Had all the wonders of the world,
The magic brooch there reigned supreme,
Though no one heard the tales it told.
Its every facet was to me
An invitation to the ball,
Where ladies dance in evening gowns
And shadows flutter on the wall.
My grandma said, 'One day I'll go
Then you'll have all my jewels, dear.'
She sounded proud, as if proclaimed
Me heiress to the throne. No fear
Of death, self-pity or complaint.
She knew and waited for her day.
The dark blue brooch was all I kept
When she did pass away.
How beautifully, wonderfully real. In my mind's eye, I see the blue, and through that, I see your grandmother and your love for her. This is a wonderful work.
This is a beautiful poem. Well done! It's one of those poems that you read and think 'I wish I had written this poem myself' and I don't think anyone can give higher praise than that.
Julia, I love your grandmother as well. The lead-up to her tribute is as skilfull and enchanting as the climax is forceful and moving. And on the basis of this poem, Julia, from now I feel it only proper that I should address you the way I did the last time we spoke (I think) : Jewel. Take my warmest, jewel of hearts. Gina.
Julia~ This poem is enchanting! It reminded me of my grandma while reading it and the pieces of jewelry she left behind. You created such a peaceful flow with your words while incorporating the wonderful person your grandma was and the blue brooch now left behind. Great Poem! ! ! I will probably go back and read this one again :) ~Courtney
Yes.a brooch is useful and beautiful I know...but still more amazeful and artful when there is a loving person in it...adorable poem
Lovely read with a touch of poignancy.
Visiting some old favourites today, Julia. Had forgotten the beauty in this one. Eyes all a-glistening... Give me a call next time you're on-site. Warmest wishes, Gina.
Your poem destroys delightfully the current myth that 'value' is all about financial worth. The value of the brooch you describe so eloquently, is its radiance when you played with it as a child, and it's fond connection with your grandmother - something that your poem has captured for ever. Beautiful work. Warmly, Alison
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I will wager what little I have, all of it, that when that brooch is held to the light, sunshine and moonshine and star light dance in it and from it, as brightly as ever, more brightly than ever.