Quality

It seems like a lifetime that I’ve been standing here,
but I remember when I was new and full of fear.
I didn’t know where I would be sent or where I’d stand,
or whether I’d be treated with a respectful hand.

I needn’t have worried I’ve always been cared for
wherever I’ve been placed, on whatever floor.
Through every new door that I’ve passed through
I’ve always stood proud and faced changes new.

In the war years I suffered minor knocks and scrapes,
and was hidden from view behind old drapes.
When it was over; I was found by a kind young man
who cared for me, and made me feel new again.

He and his wife watched over me for many more years
and when they died I again became full of fears.
Anxiously I stood alone for quite some time
feeling old and dejected, and past my prime.

However, one day a lady made such a fuss of me
and took me to her home across the sea.
And for many years since I’ve been looked upon,
as an example of quality of an age now gone.

poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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