antique / canadian poets / maritime authors / natasha head / poem / poems / poetry by natasha head / poetry by tashtoo / tashtoo / yardsale

Sunday Shopping


Sunday Shopping
Down the long and shady lane
Beyond the limits known
Is the house where Harry sits
Upon his gilded throne.
Barriers protect his land
Barbed wire shaped to harm
Protect mysteries and hidden secrets
Buried within his barn
Old Blue barks a vicious warning
As you approach the lane
Where the remnants of visits past
Are charms upon his chain
His one eye watches as you move
Carefully from your car
The sound of screen door slamming shut
To be left slightly ajar.
And now here comes the shuffle
As Old Harry makes his way
Down the drive to greet you
And chase the flies away.
His wrinkled features tell a tale
Beyond one eon’s old
But his blue eyes have a twinkle
With every story told.
Each item has a history
Every piece was once a dream
And though you think you know the make
There’s nothing as it seems
And so you’ll take your treasures
And Harry will take your bills
And you will have lived to now tell your tale
Of Sunday Shopping thrills.

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8 thoughts on “Sunday Shopping

  1. Yes everything can be a treasure to the right person, although some may only be a treasure to those few and far between..haha…really like the flow of this one too.

  2. Perhaps one day we'll compile a whole book dedicated to work inspired by all the Harry's and their treasures…I'm known for some pretty electic keepsakes 🙂

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