Poetry for the Golden Quill Contest at RhyPiBoMo

The Time Thief –by J. Bea Young


My Nana lived down a darkened, quiet hall

I tip toe in and stand inside the gloom

Seashells in pastels decorate a wall

A long, former life in an empty room.


Wedding quilt repatched in modern cotton

Folded silently in patient waiting

To be loved again or else forgotten

A soft remembrance of a mind fraying.


Sentinels of perfume bottles yet stand

On vanity‘s jewl’d glass, linger fragrance.

Children, gardens, roses held in gloved hands.

A just woman of wit, faith and patience.


Taking Nana’s measure, time torn apart,

I hold her watch against my gentle heart.