Granddad's Room Of Treasures. Poem by Terry Collett

Granddad had a front room
full of treasures

to your child's eyes
from paintings of Madonnas

or other holies
to bowls of fruit

filling the room
with that applely smell

and vases
of all colours

and shapes
and only opened up

when Gran opened
the door on the way through

to the lounge
where your granddad sat

or when you managed
to steal a moment alone

while the elders
where busy

you opened the door
and gazed around

the room like
an Aladdin's cave

the statues of spaniel dogs
or wiry cats

your ears listening
for the voices of the others

from the lower part
of the house

waiting in the doorway
your eyes wide

taking it all in
right down

to the smell of fruit
that filled the room

the half light
the dark shade

where another world
seemed to begin or end

until on hearing
your parent's voice

or Granddad's call
echoing along the hall.