Round spheres

On a dusty red velvet chair

Creme with age they are in their final stage.

They weren't always the way

They are today

Years ago they were white,

They were quite a pleasant sight.

I wonder if she wore them to church on a

Sunday morning,

Or if she wore them to a funeral when she was

mourning.

I wonder, were they a present?

Did Grandpa give them to her when she gave

her consent?

I wonder did she wear them when she smiled?

When she sang and danced,

with the heart of a child?

Did they glimmer when she went out at night?

Did they dance when she jumped in fright?

When she cleaned them did they shine?

When she passed on did they cry?

I know that now since she's not here,

all they do is sit on a dusty red, velvet chair.