Old spoon beware–
Care has been forgotten!
A lifetime doesn’t last a lifetime–
Thrown from the hood of a car,
Retrieved days later
All squashed and mangled.
Dropped down a garbage disposal–
Crushed, sliced, and diced
Like the day’s refuse.
Misused and abused, oh yes!
But never–not even once–discarded!
New spoon, new spoon,
The wife loves you, new spoon!
Today you shine like the newlywed
She was those decades ago.
Now she’s grey and tarnished
And stained and scratched
Just like her old spoon.
You will be, too, one day, new spoon.
Your burnish will fade; your pretty all gone.
She’ll keep you nonetheless, oh yes!
Too many memories do spoons hold!
Mooning about your spooning poem. Very lovely, Stacy!
My spoons mean so much to me, as you probably guessed. I chose them when a doe-eyed young woman – the pattern is called Louisiana. ❤
Love your post. I have a wooden spoon that I have used daily for cooking. It is worn but I’ll never give it up…I like the feel of it in my hand.
Old spoons are the best! ❤
Great poem and yes, spoons can tell a story of joys, sick days and many possibilities of good, loyal service.
Let all of us age like the spoon, and meanwhile increasing our value!
Hugs to you,
Thank you, Mariette! ❤
I always prefer the ones with a past. Much more interesting. xx
So true, Karen – that’s why I can’t part with them, no matter what their condition. ❤
El Guapo said:
Will the pretty really be gone, or go from a pretty of appearance to a pretty of depth and experience?
(Spoon also makes a great battlecry!)
I suppose the nature of beauty changes, Guap. Some people may not recognize that, but I do. I’d like to know how you find these videos! ❤
The only thing worse than turning irrelevant, is being forgotten. May all your spoons stay ever new in a single cabinet.
If it’s up to me, they will! ❤