Seen Through a National Trust Window

So here they stand quite silent on their shelves
This standing army of selected crocks,
Shiny in their pot-bellied pomp,
Recalling once they served a vital role.
These jugs and mugs and casseroles
Cooked up the finest food around,
And wafted hints of joy to come
Throughout the hungry, happy house.
Such memories might all be lost
As are the names of those who ate,
If not for these in their proud ranks
Like Chinese warriors? No, much greater,
Since they recall the living life that was,
Not death.