I Spy: Me, My Shelf and I - Part 2

Day 34: 50 Days. 50 Posts. 50 Years.

“Some people collect stamps, others collect experiences; I collect stories.” – Unknown

The second photo of my shelf isn’t as difficult to see, although I may still have trouble understanding the significance of the artifacts, but they all collect dust just the same. They meant something at the time - a token of a special day or trinket from a blooming romance.

In Part 1, I mentioned the I Spy books. Thought I’d take a crack at it:

I spy a Styrofoam cup with artistic doodles,

A bottle of Crew gel – something I need no more,

Three elephants with tusks as small as noodles,

And a Hess truck behind cologne I once poured.

I spy an Easter-colored basket small,

Inside sits and uneaten cane striped in red and green

I young man with bow-tie and hat standing tall

Next to his wife only the future has seen.

I spy an unexplained box of crackers,

In shapes of animals and beast,

Proof I was (and still am) a snacker,

And a Ghanian Kente stole worn by a priest.

I spy a brown, braided leather keychain,

In front of the Cat’s Meow church steeple

A fire engine red, a wooden puzzle of a train,

And a picture of a friend, my Who’s on First people.

I spy a soft, fluffy sheep – don’t ask me why

Another unwrapped Hershey Kiss

A minor league baseball ticket, in front it lies

Drops of fresh breath – opportunities never missed.

I spy IDs reminding me how long it’s been and how I used to look,

An EG tape measure, a bar of hotel soap

A little NASCAR yellow and blue, out of the package never took

A safe-travel bead, barely seen, once around my wrist on a rope.

Well, I’m not going to be bragging about this post, but I thought it was worth a try.

Dream Out Loud,

rg