The Sideboard Poem by David Wood

That lounge sideboard,
If it could speak what tales
It could tell?

After two decades it would
Have plenty to say, but it is
Now silent like a mirror.

It holds my past, my history.
It probably started life about
100 years ago as a young oak.

The middle draw holds life's
Contents just awaiting to be
Explored.

A variety of batteries, a few
Screw drivers, running medals
Shoelaces, cards and paper.

Even Tina's old work pass looks
Up at me from the back of the
Draw. Photos, bank books too.

The holiday photos, places
Waiting to be visited again
And smiled upon.

It has become a place where
History starts, a scrap yard,
A final resting place.

It will continue to sit their
Waiting to receive and store
Life's future memories.