Stamps In The Snow

Well, I am making the big push in my moving efforts. I had this happen to me. It is a true story, and it struck me as something to put in poetical form to share with my fellow collectors here.


Stamps in the Snow

You my brethren surely know
that when the time comes to go
to bridge the gap to a new abode
We tend to worry and forbode

How shall we care for the collection
To bring it home in satisfaction
Little worries in malefaction
Gnaw at us to ceaseless action

Thus I was with my last case
No cover had this container base
It failed me in the frigid waste
And so trilled my heart apace

It was at the steps I took my spill
It seemed all caution was for ill
So bitter was that poison pill
to find the box no longer filled

Stamps in the snow, my great woe!
I see my plate blocks fallen so
I picked them up fast as I could go
it was no use, stamps in the snow!

Into the rebel case I threw
with frigid digits through and through
remnants now, God only knew
the tatters of my retinue

To the car did I race
to there unpack in safer place
words of sorrow left unspoken
then there appeared the queerest token

His greeting then did cause me start
My stress he saw and took to heart
Apologized for his remark
As he approached me at my car

Then he asked me if I might
Be perhaps his kind of type
For the young are oft in sight
And surely they could heed his plight

He asked me if I could see my way
to help him get through another day
He said he looked for work and pay
If even at his advanced age

I did not tell him he was wrong
My days of school were now long gone
Any decade could span as long
as my youth to his "old" poor song

My fear and fret had gone away
I remembered then another day
when hope and dignity were long at bay
and despairs unnumbered my soul did fray

I gave to him all that I had
It was so little I felt bad
his face, it cheered to see the lad
(or so he thought) give of his hand

I watched him step away and go
With just a little bit of hope
that I would not be last to know
the blessing that a giver knows

Returning to the house I go
and thereupon the steps still blow
those startled stamps there in the snow
and that is when I came to know

Stamps will not feed the hunger full
of body so corruptible
Nor sate those hungers of the soul
Which are yet more terrible

Stamps in the snow

PS: The loss was quite minimal, and the gain from the experience far greater.

Smauggie
beannacht leat
blessings upon you ( in Scottish Gaelic)
Love your poem
love the sentiment
Happy landings in your new place

glad to hear it did not cost you too much, but I am sure you had to make a sanity roll.

Alright Smauggie! Great job. We still need to get together! I'm a singer/songwriter, so lyric & rhyme has no finner time!

Smauggie
Poetry is the more subtle way to express what we feel.But reading your poem three times I realize my English is not as good as I thought because there are many words I see for the first time. I also write poetry (in french) once in a while and publish it on a website. Although I thought of it before I never wrote a poem on philately. Hope you enjoy your new place! Daniel

Thank you stampgal, warrehouse.