Researching my family history has been a love of mine since I was a young girl. I always want to know more about my ancestors, not just when they were born or died, so I'm constantly looking in books and on the internet to find information or things about my family. I found this little treasure a few years ago on Ebay that was written by my gr-gr-aunt Josephine Hancock Logan.
Though most of the poems are very dark and depressing in this book, I found one that has stuck with me and reminds me to do a little housekeeping of my "stuff" once in a while....which is what my hubby and I have been busy doing all month. We've been emptying a storage unit we filled to the brim when we moved and now that we've lived six months without it we realize that most of it must go.
We've had a few set backs and slowdowns (injured back and a nasty case of the flu) plus I HAD to sew of course, but it's emptied and now we're ready for a garage sales, donations boxes, and even some bits and pieces to the garbage can. Whew! So much work!
Anyway, I'm sharing the poem I keep tucked in the back of mind, though long and rather dated it is a wake-up call to what we think we must keep stored FOREVER.
by Josephine Hancock Logan, 1932
Taken from boxes that held belongings long-cherished
I fondled today some sweetly smelling webs,
Exquisite fashionings by deft fingers
That handling fairy threads
Wove pictures in mesh.
There were nestling fur coats--
Embroideried elegance in chiffon and spangled net;
Great hats plumed as knights were panoplied;
Dainty painted fans and feathered ones;
Hair ornaments, beaded bands,
Imposing combs, shaped for tresses not bobbed.
Tulle of all colors
For framing faces
That needed no framing for enhancing beauty.
All these treasures tissued and fragrant,
Meticulously kept for the young king to gaze upon spellbound--
These with some rare old furniture I thought to distribute--
Supposedly longing eagerly for their inheritance.
Alas! for my footless cherishing--
For, today, a newly-wed in my family
When offered a choice bedroom set--
That had held an honored place in our home--
Calmly, but firmly, said:
"So dear of you mother, but you and I have different ideas, you know,
and though that set was marvelous for you and Dad you won't mind if we let you keep it."
It was a revelation--
At that instant I caught demarking line
'Twixt old and young,
The passing of an age with its furbishings
Recognizing the privilege of
The modern one desiring self-expression in its tastes and acquisitions--
And the significance I sensed that my boxes did not hold
Precious, enviable goods,
Just stuff that had outlived its appeal.
So I mounted a ladder--
Asking no aid--
And one by one
I pulled down the rest of the hoarded treasures--
My archaic trappings,
Tumbling them to the floor--
Then I called
The rummage number.
Thanks for stopping by to visit today and get a little dose of vintage poetic reading.
Enjoy your day and maybe you can find some time to search through some
of those "cherished belongings" you've been holding on to!