Treasury

A children's book collection,

A scrapbook, for recollection,

An assortment of knick-knack owls,

Handmade quilts, on a rack made with dowels,

Shelves of Coca-Cola decor,

Many rag dolls to love and adore,

Jars of coins you have kept—some are rare;

Small stuffed animals won at the fair.

Many things can be treasured, it seems,

But how 'bout a treasury of dreams?

Those things you hold close with great hope

And grasp tight—like a safety rope.

Best of all are the people we prize,

Who aren't always in front of our eyes;

But they're never far-off in our thoughts

(Unlike things we've been given or bought).

Those we love—far more precious than gold—

Are our treasury as we grow old.

 © 2024 Teresa Miles Kephart