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
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