My Jar of Stories

I have kept all my stories, since the day I was born Safe in a jar, some new and some worn I will pour out a few, to use as my muse When the light bulb denys me, or my pen has no use Battered, and chipped, and dusty with childhood Filled to the brim with my plans and my schemes Losses and triumphs, friendships and kindness Goals and ambitions, are mixed with my dreams It is fragile and slippery as a wet bar of soap I have stored all my heartache, and mixed it with love I have poured in some worry, with the good and the bad My jar holds my stories, from the day I was born ............................... For Susan Burch's Contest: " Jars"