the Box Room

Posted on 26 May 2020 by

50 Comments

The box room was always full of dust
it settled in between the pillars of assorted trunks
piles of coloured cases all stored aboard
like us children for long stretches of school term.
I loved the smell of it, the grime of years penetrating
deep into wood panels and the way particles flew fairy-like
each time another box was stacked, tiny motes lit by the one
small attic window. Here was an Aladdin’s cave
of far away places, baggage stuck with colourful labels
foreign countries I knew only from my stamp album
and the pink-filled world map of a sun-setting Empire.

My trunk was post-box red with leather corners
loitering in the silent dark like a forgotten go-between
’til at term’s end the room was suddenly flung open
for a scrabble and scramble invasion
luggage laughingly located, lugged and slid
down the inclined ramp, owners following
gymslips flying, regardless of splinters
we packed feverishly, flinging possessions pell-mell
anticipating the haulage truck’s arrival, and away
our baggage would go, before us, homeward bound.

The box room vacant again, its dust unperturbed
and the ghost trapped within, sighing amongst spiders.

A plain and simple poem from me for a change and one for my Poetics Prompt : Room(s)

Category: PoetryTags: , , ,

50 Comments on “the Box Room”

  1. When our little ground floor two-bedroom maisonette became too small for our family, we moved to the top floor of another block where we lived in one with three bedrooms, and I got the box room. Your poem reminded me of my little room, with a large box at the top of the stairs where I used to sit as a teenager, reading or playing my guitar.
    I like how the box room in your poem was always full of dust, Laura, and that it was full of assorted trunks and cases, ‘an Aladdin’s cave of far away places’. It reminds me a bit of the box room at my grandparents’ house – it also had a ‘ghost trapped within, sighing amongst spiders’.

    Liked by 2 people

    • this box room was next to the dormitories and when young I would scurry past for fear of the ghost within – I suppose thats where all ghosts live undisturbed most of the time!

      Liked by 2 people

  2. This box room with its dust reminds me so much of the attic at my grandparent’s place… the dust sailing through the room, the scent… and maybe also the knowledge that there might be treasures to be found… (but I also remember my fears running through the attic.

    Like

  4. I like the description of the ghost sighing at the end and the description of how “particles flew fairy-like” while packing.

    Like

  5. I like the transitional aspects to your poem, and the excitement of the boxes leading the way home.

    Like

  6. Your story captivated me from beginning to end! It reminded me a bit of my recent poem “Special Things” in yet another attic. You created beautiful word pictures, and I felt as if I were there!

    Like

  8. I, too, wrote an attic poem recently. I was not familiar with the term “Box room”, although most of us have a spare bedroom, or garage, or shed soon filled with old boxes and furniture and knick-knacks

    Like

  9. you vividly painted a room and situation I used to dream of, boarding school …
    loved the ghosts dust and excitement to pack and go home!

    Like

  11. Nostalgic! It took me back to my childhood room, there was an old wood cupboard in that room and this reminded me of that.

    Like

  12. Storage rooms always have the atmosphere of waiting for something, and you’ve caught it. It reminds me of some of the attics in my parents’ houses. (K)

    Like

  14. How can you create so many wonderful poems in quick succession? ! ! !

    Like

    • easier when its my own prompt but did not think I was that productive so thank you Lucy for such an encouraging comment

      Like

  15. Dust may indicate a total lack of activity, but that little touch in your poem brings the room to life.

    Like

  16. I love your poem. It brought back memories of our Attic when I was a child. Such great images you have here. I liked these lines:
    baggage stuck with colourful labels
    foreign countries I knew only from my stamp album
    and the pink-filled world map of a sun-setting Empire.

    Dwight

    Like

  17. I really love this. It’s so evocative of the time and place, that dusty room of the past

    foreign countries I knew only from my stamp album
    and the pink-filled world map of a sun-setting Empire

    My husband and I read our horoscopes as a joke in the morning, and mine said something about traveling through reading today–well, you took me to another place. Box room is not something we say in the U.S., and I never went away to school, until I went to college.

    Like

  19. Reminds me of visiting my Grandparents’ old house they had a box room filled with all interesting things – probably just junk looking back, but it seemed so interesting when I was younger. Thanks for the poem, and the memory

    Like

  20. I loved taking this trip down memory lane with you! The imagery pulled me into your room full of sentiments underneath the dust and spider webs.

    Like

  21. What a fabulous world your poem creates. I have only ever read of box rooms in English novels. I didn’t know they really existed. Now I know better.

    Like

  22. I found this an absolutely fascinating read! You’ve described both the box room, and the details remembered from a child away from home at a boarding school. I think? I’ve been re-reading the Harry Potter series (my third time) and I’m reminded of his trunk he takes to Hogwarts each year. I had my great-grandfather’s trunk for many years….it also had stickers on it…very faded though. And in faded ink, his name in block print.
    I really enjoyed reading this!

    Like

    • thank you for enjoying these memories from years of boarding and hence the boxroom a profound link between home and school -it was not quite the experience of a Harry Potter though 😉

      Like

  23. This poem meant to me the cleaning out of the history of someone who has just left us. All those years those things were there and should have been shared with that someone, but were not. Now we will never know what some of the treasures meant to them.

    Like

Words and pictures are my world & an interior life is all we can expect right now

My Garden Blog

Get email alerts

Archives
<span>%d</span> bloggers like this: