Dear Treasure Chest

“The heart hath its own memory, like the mind, and in It are enshrined the precious keepsakes, into which is Wrought the giver’s loving thought.” Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Dear Treasure Chest Invaluable is tender love’s domain, that ruby red that lies beneath the breast. But just as precious is the treasure chest which houses our intelligence - the brain. With memories exquisite to retain, this coffer is the one that serves us best. And likely we’ll not know how well we’re blessed till luster of our keepsakes starts to wane. The ruby oft is lost; we pay a toll. Yet time and time again, that gem we find. Not so within the storehouse of our soul when strands of fond remembrances unwind. Dear treasure chest of which we’ve no control, what good the heart when pearls fade from the mind? For the contest of Sara Kendrick