A bag rests in the corner,
That’s reserved for all the best.
Keepsakes, memories and mementos,
For when you’ve flown the nest.
Tops, trousers, shoes and costumes,
Some with spag bol and grass stains.
At least, when you’ve left home,
This tiny loot will still remain.
Each time I put your clothes away,
I feel a little low.
Your outgrown things look good as new;
Where did those last months go?
A vacuum pack of treasures,
Captured as we laughed and played.
Nothing much to look at,
But too precious to give away.
Despite your Dad’s “Jeeze, not more crap,
To pack into our loft”.
The contents of that bag someday,
Will make his heart go soft.
We’ll think it seems like yesterday,
Since you were oh so small.
Boom! In a flash, you’re all grown up,
And standing oh so tall.
To the world, that bag’s just full,
Of unsuspecting stuff.
Yet to me it’s simply priceless,
And it makes me feel dead chuffed.
© Pass Me The Valium and passmethevalium.com, 2017.