In a previous poem I wrote about a gift I received for Christmas, which my mother had concealed in an Oxydol Soap box…a book which our teacher had read out loud to the class. That book, is called Snow Treasure, by author Marie McSwigan, was first published in 1942.
At age eight or nine I was very impressed with this book about Norwegian children who smuggled their town’s gold down mountain, past occupying German troops, to a fiord, where an uncle waited with his ship to whisk the treasure away to safety. The story is said to really have happened.
About 70 years later I obtained a copy of the book that had been discarded by a public library, and available at a book sale. Marveling at my luck, I quickly paid the pittance asked and left with this great treasure of my own.
[Writing201, Poetry. Today’s assignment involves the word GIFT, and Crostic, and Alliteration.] (Originally published on Sometimes in 2015 under title A Perfect Past Present for Poetry Class)
A Perfect Past Present
Better a book, than a boat or a bear
Or my childhood dream would be dashed
Only such a gift would
Keep me a happy child.
I would never have wanted clothing
Neither undies nor socks…in a box
A doll or a hat or even a unicorn of bisque would have been taking a terrible risk
of dashing my special specific dream of a gift
But–alas! There was only one lonely gift left…and that in a box!
OXYDOL SOAP said the boisterous box, causing my young heart to sink
X-actly! I cheered as I peered inside, and shouted — “MY BOOK IN A BOX!”