I Belonged to Grandma #poetry

one key to her heart

I cannot remember

in what century I started

only you will know where I will end

In the hands  of a potter my form charted

in fine french porcelain he could depend


crated or hands carried me

though dropped a long time ago

I travelled across continent and sea

it was I guess my destiny

to become part of your large family


a grandmother’s wish and dream

to a young bride’s dowry

your taste has changed it seems

or is it loving memory

of a woman who gazed 50 years at me


more than 2 decades I grin

you have set me apart

never mind that I don’t fit in

for I always do in your heart

that I will always remember


 This very old piece of pottery never fit in with my other antiques but I have learned to love it all the same.


What’s the oldest thing you own? (Toys, clothing, twinkies, Grecian urns: anything’s fair game.) Recount its history — from the object’s point of view.

DP prompt for today – Antique Antics


Published by moondustwriter

Thank you for visiting Moondustwriter. One of the many exciting things I've had the honor of doing is writing with an E. African team that is developing elementary curriculum for African children. As a writer, it is a thrill to help children (on all continents) who want to learn. I've been part of the blogging community for more than 10 years. Some old timers may remember the award winning (2011 Twitter Shorty ) blog community - One Stop Poetry. I was the co-producer of that fast growing blog community. I am a published writer, poet, artist and photographer. I have written, as well as edited, for periodicals, radio, blogs and fellow writers. There are many facets to this moon - thanks for stopping by.

8 thoughts on “I Belonged to Grandma #poetry

  1. Leslie, you nailed it….I belonged to my grandma too and I thank God for her, she saved me. I adore “a woman who gazed fifty years at me”……and that you always fit in her heart. Sigh. Beautifully done!!


  2. I have a number of antiques which I’ve collected over the years…one of my favorites is an old pump organ that’s well over a 100 years old…and still plays. 🙂


  3. Love the poem. It gives me a nostalgic feeling. My childhood blanket is the oldest thing I own. It was given to me even before I was born, so it’s older than me. It’s has a torn corner (my cheeky brother snipped it off) but I still love it and use it most nights 🙂


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