Corrugated catalyst to your imagination,
Empty boxes filled your boyhood days,
Perfect props for endless ad-lib plays.
You rocketed me to see the Earth from Mars
Added paper plate wheels for day trips in your car
With kitchen-roll canons we took your tank to battle
Against the evil robox we defended our silver-foil castle
You hid for hours inside your steggered box-asaurus
Giggling inside whispering ‘do you think-he-saw-us’
A Jack for your brother, the Dr lost in time
Arc for the chosen few, emergency doors for 999.
A thousand magical mystery tours
Cut, taped, paint-daubed and plain
We built them tirelessly, time and time again.
Til time did tell;
My stinging tears darken the brown,
Of one last box that we fill with all you own,
As you ad-venture into the real world,
A Man.
“Brief: 366/2020 project, prompt ‘Box’
Submitted for Thursday’s Open Link Night over at Dverse Poets Pub.
“Expression 
Goodness this packs a punch 😢 and this verse sums it up so well
“A thousand magical mystery tours
Cut, taped, paint-daubed and plain
We built them tirelessly, time and time again
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Thank you, that was a surprisingly emotional write, an entire childhood boxed.
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I am going through my mother’s things at the moment and find so many memories boxed. Not just hers and mine and my sisters, but my grandmother’s great grandmothers, etc… and in the end, they have lost their meaning. A great write about all the joys of childhood…
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So well encapsulates the feeling as a son strikes out to find his own way. It recalled similar feelings for me.
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Your delightful poem brought back fond memories of playing with cardboard boxes – not only from my own childhood but also from my daughter’s! I love the phrase ‘Corrugated catalyst to your imagination’ and the lines:
‘You rocketed me to see the Earth from Mars’
and
‘You hid for hours inside your steggered box-asaurus
Giggling inside whispering ‘do you think-he-saw-us’.
Oh yes, and the reference to Dr Who – I’m still a huge fan – and ‘A thousand magical mystery tours’.
It’s a wrench packing up their things and launching them into the world.
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I hope that one last box was a suitcase. It is an emotional poem and I feel envious that you have those emotions to share. Mine all drifted (not very far) away, leaving us their rubbish to get rid of.
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Thank you for your lovely warm comments, so much appreciated especially when you put a piece together that feels so emotional, I welled up (read sobbed!) when I read it to my son, he smiled and gave me a Half a hug! Proud of him and am sure his creative imagination will take him far, perhaps not as far as Mars this time 🙂
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Nice description: “steggered box-asaurus”
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This reminds me so much of my sons and their love of boxes and of my grandsons now – boxes fire the imagination so much more than ready made toys.
I am glad that your closing stanza was about your son leaving home a man, as initially I thought it was leading to something more sadly permanent.
Like your words a great deal.
Anna :o]
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So touching, emotional and personal. As chicks leave the nest, there is a plethora of emotions that swirl up within. Their journeys and adventures just happen, and with each year passing, we participate less.
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Beautiful blend around the theme of imagination and the sweet melancholy of nostalgia – a powerful write, Catherine -Jayne. Thank you…
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This is such an emotive write. You had me at; “My stinging tears darken the brown/Of one last box that we fill with all you own.”
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That stinging tears flow down so hard and fast. Incredible writing!
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This brings back memories of the many uses/transformations that a refrigerator box went through when my boys were young. It was the best toy.
This was my favorite line, “Cut, taped, paint-daubed and plain.”
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Such a beautiful ode to childhood…I have many boxes, but I keep them in my heart.
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Oh, the joy of a child’s imagination. I think we need more box time and less screen time for kids today! Took me back a few years with this one. Well done!
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