A mother packs (Mrs Carmichael – P5 Class Poem)

She gets the suitcase from under

her bed and opens it with a key.

First she puts in the tartan

blanket, the colours of Macmillan

blue purple green and red,

pads it round the edges and starts

to pack. Then she really begins.

She puts in her mother’s scarf,

purple, her favourite colour.

Next a wee bag of jewellery,

diamonds the size of the hailstones

outside, her pearl necklace

that shines, emeralds mint green.

She adds the china teacup, covered

in flowers, bumped and gilded

at the top for memories

of tea with her Gran. She realises

she needs money, adds a purse

of coins. She tosses in a picture

of her dad, when he was young, though

she doesn’t remember him like that;

it’s just an old picture she likes.

She remembers to put in a packet

of matches for light, warmth.

She needs things for her children,

adds a toy teacup and saucer

for daughter and football trainers

for her son. Finally, she adds the key

to her treasure chest, and another

to her own front door,

in case she’s able to come back.