The Old Wallet

I found an old wallet the other day It was worn and I wondered what had stayed When I felt the old leather as a familiar touch I thought of what we shared - so much I remembered the gift in love given And how my spirits had risen For it meant I was old enough then Adult-hood had arrived and childish things ended The old aunt who gave it to me Put 50 cents so good luck would be And tucked into a fold still so true Was the lucky coin still holding its magic too. © Paul Warren Poetry