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They spilled everywhere.

Perfume bottles, shipshapers, snow shakers,

giant sea shells you could hear the sea in,

once a tiny mouse got trapped

in an ornate bowl, he made musical notes in his escape fight.

They spilled everywhere.

Fishing reels of different eras, cartridge shells, cracked plates

with shapes, canals and troughs

and an old gun where woodworm

had gathered into the wooden handle.

They spilled everywhere.

Jam pots and preserves,

ridged wooden clappers for making butter balls,

sultanas and raisins always on the go for scones and breads galore.

And you, grandmother,

the biggest purtee of all.

They spilled everywhere

on the skip the workmen threw your gear

to be carelessly buried in landfill.

The house was re-wired and plastered for the next owners.

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