It’s just what I’ve always wanted
Thank you, so very, very much
I don’t have anything else like it
I will treasure it forever, I promise
Another, un-wanted useless gift
Destined for the box in the attic
Where sad, un-loved pressies go
Hoping to find another home, one day
Every year, in December, the box appears
Each item has its’ memories of who and when
But probably not why, the gift was given
Looking at the presents, once given with love
I remember, when Mum, no longer here
Gave me that purple scarf for Christmas
She said it would keep me warm in winter
And maybe brighten up my day
The picture frame, all fancy and ornate
From Dear Aunty Joan, God rest her soul
The book about cars, my Dad had bought me
When he first began to teach me to drive
The memories and love pour from the box
As a reminder to me, of how much I was loved
They will never find another home, re-gifted
As they are truly wanted here and treasured.
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