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THE OLD TRUNK
The rain is gently falling down
against my window pane
and I'm up here in the attic
with Mom's old trunk again
and oh, the treasures that I found
in that old battered box
buttons, albums, bits of lace
and a pair of grand pa's sox
There's family bibles you should see
and diary's oh so grand
post card's from the eighteen hundreds
and letters from a lovers hand
Theres great grand pa's Confederate uniform
from when he rode with General Lee
wiith golden buttons turned to brass
and holes up in the sleeves
A christening dress in old white lace
from eighteen twenty two
all wrapped in tissue paper
and looks almost like new
There's wedding dresses in that trunk
Mom's and great grand ma's as well
and fond memories I could recall
in the tales that they could tell
I founf a silver music box
enlayed with rich maroon
My grand pa gave it to his bride
and it still plays a loving tune
there's a bunch of orange blossoms
as dry as they can be
they laid upon my auntie's grave
in ninteen thirty three
My great grand pa's diary
with pages worn and old
the back is brown and ragged
but the stories that it told
three picture albums I did find
of ancestors old and rare
of ladies and their gents so fine
in scenes so old and rare
and old recipe box I found
from eighteen ninety eight
Gran got it as a lovely bride
it taught her how to bake
and then a box of marbles I found
way back inside the lid
my Daddy's bunch of shooters
he'd had when when just a kid
I found my Mothers bible
she held the day she wed
it was the happiest day of her life
or so, thats what she said
and so today I remenisce
of things of long ago
of happy days that won''t come back again
as thunder rolls across the sky
and shakes the window panes
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