Grandma Kept a Candy Dish!

            

            Filled with sugar-coated lemon drops, as tasty as fresh cool summer lemonade;

Cleverly placed in the center of the buffet, just out of the reach of a small child without a chair;

Made of clear depression glass with a lid that made the sound of glass symbols when a small hand lifted the too heavy lid for an un-approved treat.

Ding! Cling!,  A burglar alarm to a loving grandma.

“Not now, you don’t want to spoil your supper do you?”

“Yes”, but I kept the answer to myself. 

“Well, maybe just one.” 

Grandmas are like that, you know.

Moonbeams and sunbeams, crystal white and sunshine yellow,

A symphony of sweet and sour, bringing a tingling twinge,

As taste buds adapt to this special treat of contradictions.

Grandma and the sugar-coated lemon drops are gone forever.

The dish no longer holds the sunshine and smell of lucious yellow lemons.

It is filled with pins and papers and paper clips and loose buttons and loose change and receipts and other bits of everyday debris that find their way to this temporary glass storage place at the corner of the buffet.

Grandma kept a candy dish, filled with memories of a childhood gone, but never lost.

Grandma kept a candy dish.

Have a nice day!

Little Sammy Arnold

Yah, I actually wrote this. I call it a poem because it looks like a poem. I don't know anything about the technicalities of poetry writing, except it expresses beautiful thoughts, feelings and memories.