A Brooch Poem by Julia Klimenova
A Brooch
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.
Praise for your grandmother's rare and beautiful soul. She gave you a gift beyond price. Extraordinary write, Julia. Warm regards, Sandra
I just love your poem! Did your grandmother really have a dark blue brooch? Do you live near the Red Square? I was actually born in Kiev, Ukraine. Your poems shine light on those who read them, keep writing!
There are many gems here on this site and this is no exception, I have always seen deep blue as a healing colour and I believe that your grandma passed on something truely beautiful in you, Love duncan
Julia~ This poem is enchanting! It reminded me of my grandma while reading it and the pieces of jewelry she left behind. You created such a peaceful flow with your words while incorporating the wonderful person your grandma was and the blue brooch now left behind. Great Poem! ! ! I will probably go back and read this one again :) ~Courtney
Yes.a brooch is useful and beautiful I know...but still more amazeful and artful when there is a loving person in it...adorable poem
Lovely read with a touch of poignancy.
Visiting some old favourites today, Julia. Had forgotten the beauty in this one. Eyes all a-glistening... Give me a call next time you're on-site. Warmest wishes, Gina.
Your poem destroys delightfully the current myth that 'value' is all about financial worth. The value of the brooch you describe so eloquently, is its radiance when you played with it as a child, and it's fond connection with your grandmother - something that your poem has captured for ever. Beautiful work. Warmly, Alison
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/4/2025 10:48:48 PM # 1.0.0
Beauty is indeed in the eye of the beholder, and I suspect that a more valuable gift would have been treated with no more respect than the simple brooch. Memories are made of these moments, and you obviously treasure yours, as can be seen in this fine poem. Best wishes :) Jack.