The attic holds such fascination <br />I climb the ladder in trepidation, <br />The attic is a time machine <br />Most things hidden and unseen, <br />I lift the hatch and take a peak <br />The old rocking chair begins to creak <br />Dust coats the old wooden chest <br />The lid embossed with a crest, <br />All the games of yesteryear <br />In the corner, uncles spear, <br />Boxes piled with books and photos <br />Most containing all my heroes, <br />Snakes and ladders, ludo, lots of games <br />They belonged to my brother James. <br />Oh! look my old train set <br />On the ledge fathers old cornet, <br />A place where I can come and dream <br />Oh! just hit my head on the beam, <br />Underneath the old guitar <br />Just found my 007 car, <br />I think I'll go I'm getting mellow <br />Maybe I'll return tomorrow <br />I descend the ladder and close the hatch <br />Just for now I'll watch the match.<br /><br />Hazel Connelly<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-attic-5/
