I have mislaid my glasses
Yet again…
Why are they so consistently lost?
Is there something I’ve failed to see
Or something I’d rather not?

When I look back on the things I lose
The list is appalling I find!
A few pins, pens, pencils a day
Is normal perhaps to my mind;
But what about the papers for replacing the gas,
The insurance policy I laid just there?
The tickets I’m sure I put in my bag,
The watch was to go for repair…
I know for a fact I parked the car
And the keys were replaced just right;
So what happened to make them vanish-
These things don’t get lost overnight!
I have misplaced my friends somewhere
Among the years gone by;
A husband mislaid along the way,
A son drifted out of my life-
Daughters perhaps were given away,
And failed to return to the nest-
How do I keep track of it all,
Where do I look for the rest?
Somewhere there must be, I’m sure,
A land in which all this resides,
Waiting to be found by the owner perhaps,
Or by someone else besides?

And yet when I collect my things
I sift a strange assortment:
I find old dreams that charm my nights,
Friends who weave my days;
Goblets of humour and pain that are shared,
There is laughter and strength somewhere;
My house is festooned with memories rich,
With feet that still run through my heart;
There is much left at which to smile,
And there’s hope under the pile.