Anna by Elizabeth Daniel


In the dresser drawer,

Beneath last season’s attire,

Hidden in the dark recesses,

With one ear,

Stitched hands,

Blurred eyes,

Color now a dingy off white,

Her fur stiff with time,


An old beloved friend,

Played with by me,

Handed down to Jesse when he was just 3,

She now sits in the retirement spot,

Always loved,

Never forgotten.


© Elizabeth Daniel


Excerpt from Diary of a Poet

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About the Author

From a very young age, Elizabeth knew she was meant to be a writer. Around 8 or so, she started with little poems inside birthday cards. As years went by, poetry became her safe haven in a world full of chaos and beauty. Through written words, she found her voice. A voice according to doctors, she was never supposed to have. Today at 34, she still re- reads those poems from the early days. Now housed on her bookshelf in old binders.

Visit Elizabeth’s Author Page At:

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3 replies

  1. Lovely poem!


  2. Great work!


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