My pocketbook is a favorite thing;
I keep it close like a diamond ring.
It’s the first thing I see in morning light
and the last thing I put away at night.
It’s soft yet sturdy, is tossed here and there;
I keep telling myself: treat it with care.
Once, it was new and stood out like a star.
Now, it is greasy from fries spilled in car,
has crayon mark on its long leather strap,
been used like a pillow for grandkid’s nap.
Its zippered compartments hold stuff, you see,
like checkbook, tissues, my extra car key,
safety pins, paper, phone numbers, a card,
last year’s receipts from big sale in front yard,
lipstick, toothpick, one old quarter, one new,
dog-eared pictures, bottle of Elmer’s glue;
trident, spearmint, my state’s license to drive.
It contains nothing I need to survive,
and yet I take it wherever I go,
vacation out West, I had it in tow.
In desert, we stopped to rest for a while.
As husband checked engine, I said that I’ll
sit down at this picnic table nearby.
I jumped when I heard a sharp, sudden cry.
“Bring pocketbook!” husband said with a shout.
“Need your key! Car’s running and I’m locked out!”
c Copyright, 2012, Freeda Baker Nichols
Ah yes, I could see a comparable experience in my life!
Recalling the experience still brings a chuckle to my husband and me. : )
Cute!!! I too have an everything purse!!! I take it along with the small one that hangs across my shoulder with a few dollars in it , a tissue or two, and some lip stick. Crazy , HuH??
I like your idea, Rita. Maybe I’ll try that. Should be much lighter to carry. 🙂
There you have it, all the men who never understand why a woman wont leave home without her handbag.
Yes. It’s part of the family! lol Enjoyed your comment!
You’re very nice to comment. The experience in this poem is one I recall vividly. The poem has been written quite a while. My husband didn’t know I had the extra key. We were driving a new pickup that belonged to our son. Another child, a daughter, had told me that she carries an extra car key when on trips. So without my husband’s knowledge, I had put the extra key, not in my pocketbook, but in my pocket. He accidentally got locked out because he was not used to the new locks. We were in the middle of the Mojave Desert in California, temperature was over 100 degrees, in July, miles from any town, or any help. When my husband came rushing to tell me the problem, I reached in my pocket, brought out the key, and the relief on his face was something, as was the big hug he gave me! Vacations and married life are both full of surprises!