This week’s visual trigger for our Creative Writing Group was an old wooden writing case - a lockable box, key lost, meant to store paper, pens and ink, complete with blotter and hard writing surface It was scribbled all over in childish doodles, grown up jottings and maths calculations from many years of use. It had been found in a junk shop filled with small remnants of china, tops to ginger jars, handles to tiny caskets and pots, other brass locks etc
Mechanical movements
seized with age
forget to grind and groan.
No key to unlock fortune or fate
parts lie discarded
for generations to come
to quizzically ask
“who wrote these words?”
“what childish hand drew here
before the elder’s calculations?”
The blotter’s tales
kept encased
till we lift the lid
releasing musty airs
and histories fly forth
to pens anew
© Sheila Ash 14th March 2016
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