OBJET D’ART - ã  1998

The musty smell of artifacts

Are enough to make me swoon

This scent is always present

In an auction room

Looking at the furniture

Made from oak and ash and teak

And the china dolls, what tales they’d tell

If only they could speak

So many lives here intertwined

Of folk we’ll never know

Is this the way my prized possessions

Will one day be on show?