Grandma's Cupboard
At the tender age of three
I always gazed and marveled
At what lay behind the darkened door
Of that old dusty closet
Sister always told me
Boy, it’s a big old hairy monster
Brother always countered
“It might come out and “getcha”
Grandma would console me
Don’t listen to that blabber
Its only pots and pans, and lids
And figs that I just gathered
Still Inset with amazement
My imagination flourished
Seeking such a huge adventure
I rallied all my courage
Within the bounds and darkened walls
A door frame worn and tattered
The smell of cedar, leather shoes
Consumed me as I entered
The stories I’d been told “sooo” long
‘bout what was waiting for me
Vanished with my dreams and fears
Why it’s really not that awful
I finally came to realize
What this place was for
Why it’s just as Grandma always said
It’s my cupboard, nothing more
I always gazed and marveled
At what lay behind the darkened door
Of that old dusty closet
Sister always told me
Boy, it’s a big old hairy monster
Brother always countered
“It might come out and “getcha”
Grandma would console me
Don’t listen to that blabber
Its only pots and pans, and lids
And figs that I just gathered
Still Inset with amazement
My imagination flourished
Seeking such a huge adventure
I rallied all my courage
Within the bounds and darkened walls
A door frame worn and tattered
The smell of cedar, leather shoes
Consumed me as I entered
The stories I’d been told “sooo” long
‘bout what was waiting for me
Vanished with my dreams and fears
Why it’s really not that awful
I finally came to realize
What this place was for
Why it’s just as Grandma always said
It’s my cupboard, nothing more
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.