|
~ Tucked Up In
The Attic ~
Tucked up in the
attic
where no one
else can see
are boxes filled
with pictures
and faded
memories.
Sometimes in the
quiet night
when no else is
home
I'll climb the
darkened stairs
and sit there
all alone.
I'll open up the
boxes
and dust each
thing with care
treasures that
I've carried
secrets I've not
shared.
Little gifts and
trinkets
that have no
worth at all
bring to me such
comfort
and help me to
recall.
I see my life so
clearly
the youth that
once was mine
I'm traveling
back into
a different
place and time.
I see a broken
picture
it takes me
through a door;
a love that
broke my heart
and left me on
the floor.
I sit lost in my
memories
until the sun
peeks in
and then I close
the boxes
a new day now
begins.
©
Forrest
Phelps-Cook
Reflections From
The Heart
 Need help sending this
page? Click Here
|
