Monthly Archives: March 2015

By My Front Door

There’s a carton of wishes
By my front door
Without drawers
Or segments
Or compartments.
After lugging them around
For so long,
From place to place
Through time and storms,
Their colours have are all combined.
Their sheen I once polished
For hours on end
Have scratches and dents.
Some are unrecognisable.
But when I hold them individually
They are still warm
There is a throb
A heart
An ache
Which will never disappear,
So long as they stay
By my front door.