Nana's buttons and Grampy's keys,
Their presence displayed as proud as you please.
Nana's rattled in an old glass jar
And Grampy's hung with the keys to his car.
The perplexing thing for a boy to perceive
Is why both had more of each than they need.
So I wrinkled my young inquisitive brow
And asked which of those they could use now?
"Child, it isn't for today we save keys and buttons,
It's for things tomorrow to fix and open."
I suppose with this thought I live to this day
With buttons and keys I can't throw away,
And how their colors and shapes and sizes
Are more like a gift and memory's prizes.