“The Chip in the Tea Cup”
Washing up in a bit of a rush,
‘Chink’, I hear that sound…
I look on the drainer, the chip
Says it all; slow down, slow down, slow down.
“It’s only a mug,” I tell myself,
Just a bit of pottery,
But still it holds memories from long
Ago and my heart goes into my mouth.
My stomach lurches, I begin
To feel sad. That mug was a part of me,
It was used all the time, I hadn’t realised til now
The warm fuzzy feeling inside.
So, why use it at all?
Why not save it ‘for show’
In a cupboard to gather dust?
I won’t keep it for ‘best’ for a day far away
Because that just isn’t me.
Memories should be nurtured day after day,
Remembered, relived, re-told.
Bring the memories to life, don’t hide them away
Lest they be forgot and fade away.
I’ll hold onto my memories with all
My might; I look at the chip again.
The water drains off, swirls down the plug
But my memories still pump through my heart.
By Carol Cameleon
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