SUNDAY BEST
By Robert Westberry
Edwina saw the auctioneer
Though ghost tears quelled her view,
He auctioned off her teddy bear
And favorite dolly, Sue.
The bidders didn't notice her
Though in her "Sunday best"--
The little girl with big, blue eyes
Whose spirit wouldn't rest.
The strangers bid on Mama's dress
Daddy's watch of gold;
The porch swing,
The croquet set,
The desk (with top that rolled).
Her brother's toys,
A metal clown
Who did tricks for a penny,
Grannys' brooch, Granddaddy's clock
Antiques--there were so many!
She stayed until the fireflies flew
When yelled the auctioneer:
"Now, which of you is taking home
This precious "Little Dear?"
Her face glowed from a portrait
Dated 1897,
Edwina in her "Sunday Best"
The year she left for Heaven.
A JOURNEY IN TIME
By Lynda D. Prouse
Heavy torrents of rain cascaded
Outside my century home,
While I sat cozy in the kitchen
Admiring some patchwork I'd just sewn.
When suddenly the light went out
And I stumbled from my chair,
The room flashed in eerie darkness
As bolts of lightning streaked the air.
I made my way to the pantry
And there upon a shelf
Stood a row of kerosene lantern
And I smiled to myself.
For I knew that with one strike of a match,
I'd take a journey back in time,
Where life was very different
From this modern world of mine.
I chose two lamps and set them down,
Then watched the shadows grow,
And thought about an era
That existed some hundred years ago.
I rethreaded the needle and glanced up,
And in my imagination I could see
A lady from the distant past
Who looked very much like me.
And with only a lamp to guide her,
She worked long into the night,
Sweetly singing while she stitched a quilt,
Her face bathed in gentle light.
I must have dozed a moment,
For when I awoke the power was on,
I blew out the lamps and thought I heard,
The faint melody of a faraway song.
Cocking my head I listened,
But there was only the sound of soft rain,
The storm was over and so was my journey,
I was back in the present again.