The Memory Bag
Wresting words from mind to pen
Spilling ink and thoughts again.
Recalling days of youthful fun,
Bags of marbles, precious ones.
Unshared secrets, memories old
Hidden deep in velvet folds,
Memories slip from faded pouch
Scattering verses all about
Things that matter most to me
Are those that others never see
I take them out occasionally
To touch caress, so selfishly
Not for prying eyes are these,
In rush I gather them to me,
Hold them close and breathe them in
Until I bring them out again.
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