The Lost Things
They must be all around me —
the lost things,
My best pencil, my first doll,
a single sock,
the locket Mum gave me
for my seventh birthday,
the one I promised to never lose.
They lurk in dusky corners,
and grooves and places
I can’t begin to think of
Loving their freedom
Camouflaging their grins
Watching me as I search everywhere —
But where they are
Those clever, clever, lost things
Forever playing hide
While I play seek.
Dianne Bates
You touch a nerve with this, Di. Love the last lines.
Love it Di.
Another good one, Di. Well done!