The bookends reared their frozen forms upon my Pawpaw’s desk –
Four feisty steeds of vintage glass, supremely statuesque.
I reached to smooth my fingers over two with scarlet hue,
And gazed in wonder at the pair which boasted coats of blue.
These bookends were no bookends when viewed through children’s eyes.
Instead, in Pawpaw’s hands they changed into a sought-out prize.
A world-class competition was just moments from beginning;
These trophies would adorn the stalls of jumpers that were winning.
On hands and knees I pranced my way up to the starting line.
Beside me, my two brothers nickered, waiting for a sign.
Our Pawpaw settled back into his squeaky swivel chair;
Of course he was the perfect judge for such a grand affair.
The time had come for me to shine, and like a shooting star
I took a leap across the room – my goal to travel far.
The distance and the landing proved my turn a grand success.
Triumphantly, I whirled around with equine-like finesse.
My glance then traveled back to view the line of competition,
And saw that now my brother’s turn had come for exhibition.
He sprang into the air with such abundant life and motion
That Pawpaw scratched his head and dubbed him “Froggy” on a notion.
And when at last each champion had performed the final round,
We galloped to the judge’s chair expecting to be crowned.
With careful hands our Pawpaw held those frozen steeds and smiled;
He then reached out to place one in the grip of every child.
The days of playing horses on the floor of Pawpaw’s den
Are now my distant memories of the way things were back when.
And yet, these recollections serve me as a note to self –
Resourceful thinking might just take the bookends off the shelf.
This poem is based on the author’s childhood memories.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
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