ZAZZY ZEE THE JUNKER WAXES POETIC

APRIL IS POETRY MONTH

Since I am a poet and I love junk and all things rusty and dusty, I thought I would write an ode to my blatant junking habit.  I know all Junkers and collectors of treasures ( no matter what they may be) will identify with my obsession with having more than one of anything!

I am open...open for buying, selling, chatting, dreaming and having adventures...

TREASURE JUNKIE

She's a treasure junkie,                                                       
every corner occupied,
studio art in piles,
empty space is rare.
    THERAPY  IS SUGGETED

Rows of colored bottles dance like
Rockettes on a windowsill stage.
Books partner with vases of
muted pottery while doll's painted
faces laugh behind cupboards
of glass.
     THERAPY IS SUGGESTED

Quilts stacked on handmade boxes color
my world with whimsy.
Curiosities from a whittler's knife
sit amongst spinning tops,
old road signs speak order on a
bathroom wall,
seashells perch on rolls of Charmin...
      THERAPY IS STRONGLY SUGGESTED                     

Perfume bottles, fragile mirrors leave
no toothbrush room,
hats on every peg, table and post,
beads and baubles fill drawers,
no space for "normal" stuff
        THERAPY IS USELESS

Who doesn't like signs with flying horses? Stuff dreams are made of...

And wooden boxes and kegs, these bring to mind Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer floating down the mighty Mississippi...

Architectural elements and all things rusty, iron or metal spell LOVE.

Come on over to Hawk's Creek, we have plenty of chairs for you to relax on and spin a yarn or two.

I always wonder who packed their lunches in these metal treasures.  Where did they work, what joy did they have after a long days labor and did their kids know how hard they worked?

I will find a use for this windmill tail one day.  Until then, I like looking at it as I enter my shop.  It makes me smile, knowing it helped bring water to a long ago farm.

A JUNKER'S LIFE

Take it, it's free
Yes, I'm in charge
This junk belongs to me.

Where did it all come from?
The garage, the attic and storage room.
I'm a junkaholic, a garage sale bum.

Perhaps, I'll stop, I know I should.
There is no more room.  I will stop!                                   
If only I could.

It's an illness, so very detectable.
Bruises, scrapes and an aching back;
picking up an antique or a collectible.

One day it will all come to a halt.
Friends and family will sort through
all I have bought.

They will laugh and say I had a curse.
Joke's on them.
I've rented a U-Haul to go behind my hearse!

WE MUST TAKE TIME TO STAY COOL, CALM AND CORRECTED IN OUR WALK

Yes, it is always good to walk around with Mother Nature. Look at what God has given with a free hand of love. We all love our passions but taking time to reflect helps us to put everything into perspective.

Yes, and of course, while I am doing this, I start collecting seeds, bird's nests and unusual twigs to use in future projects. I guess being a Junker strays into all aspects of our lives. I love it..don't you?

You know this is just waiting to be re-loved into a new life. Let's all be loved and re-loved. We too can be re-purposed.