The mantle of my life is overgrown with memories

Which things upon my mantel attest to - in threes

The long gold mirror reflects brass and glass lamps

And pipe racks also adorn it, some still with stamps



Even though cluttered - the look is shiny and bright

Each has its own memories of days and long nights

When life was shared with wonderful companions

Day-in and day-out, and there were no champions



But now there is only me to enjoy all of these things

For the others have all left my life and the joy it brings

All have their reasons, some solid, and others, not so

But whatever they are, or were - is now another show



And I gaze now lovingly at pieces on mantel all loved

Those lovely little chandelier lamps they all did covet

Why everybody looks at them in such a special way

I think - is because of the teardrops, of crystal made



Christopher W. Thomas

11am Tuesday 12/30/97