I'm learning to think in English and to feel it, though my mother tongue is Russian. And I'm learning through poetry.
My grandma had a dark blue brooch.
It was just glass, few pennies' worth.
Held to the light, it flashed, as bright
As all the diamonds on earth.
My 'treasure chest' full to the brim
Had all the wonders of the world,
The magic brooch there reigned supreme,
Though no one heard the tales it told.
Its every facet was to me
An invitation to the ball,
Where ladies dance in evening gowns
And shadows flutter on the wall.
My grandma said, 'One day I'll go
Then you'll have all my jewels, dear.'
She sounded proud, as if proclaimed
Me heiress to the throne. No fear
Of death, self-pity or complaint.
She knew and waited for her day.
The dark blue brooch was all I kept
When she did pass away.