A couple of years ago, I was thinking of the time when I was a little boy, and I remembered how I used to love being in the twine store with my dad. I decided to write a poem; this is what I put together.

In the Corner of the Store

I remember when I was a wee lad,
down in the store I would go with my dad.
Soon after supper the men in the town,
would see the lights in and all gather round.

I'd sit on the twine in the corner of the store,
and listen to the stories that I heard before.
Some about shipwrecks, some about ghosts,
the ones about ghosts was what I liked the most.

They talked about fishing and mending their gear,
and painting their boats at the end of the year.
I wish I could go back there once more,
and sit on the twine in the corner of the store.

My dad kept on mending while the men there would chat,
some of them were tall and skinny, while others were short and fat.
Oh the stories they told and the laughter would roar,
as I sat on the twine in the corner of the store.

I can still smell the tar that was in the twine,
I couldn't buy gum so the tar tasted fine.
Lots of nice scents you could stuff up your nose,
but the best scent of all was the oakum I spose.
Someone spoke of a new boat that Garge started to build,
he's been at it all year now, it will take him a spill.

The talk it goes on about the fish and the price,
They talk about schools and the kids with the lice.
My mind wanders back to that time once more,
where I sat on the twine in the corner of the store.

The store it got smoked from the pipes that were lit,
and Dad said my son it's time you went to bed.
My eyes they got glossy and I didn't know anymore,
until my dad woke me up from my nap in the corner of the store.

The twine store is empty, there's no one about,
The crowd's now gone home, and the fire gone out.
Dad locked it all up and then went to bed,
but the stories I heard were still in my head.

Another night was coming and I knew it for sure,
that I would sit on the twine in the corner of the store.   Submitted By: NULL