Treasure

~

she doesn’t know

about the hidden box

it once held posh biscuits,

it’s very sturdy, 

shiny too, stowed 

behind the paperbacks,

it’s full of her 

early-life scribblings

some tiny shells she 

collected for me from a 

beach somewhere,

a beaded necklace that 

she made herself unaided, 

insisting that I wear it for 

a day or two at least,

a beautifully arranged

autumnal leaf collage,

umpteen handmade birthday 

cards and proclamations 

of undying love for her Papa,

the piece de resistance,

a hand sewn heart that

she put by my hospital 

bed following serious 

cardiac surgery,

out of the blue, several 

years later, she asked me 

the other day

if I still had that heart and 

was both highly surprised

and elated when I confessed 

that I’d kept it,

she’ll get all worthless

treasure back one day

when I’m no longer around

to re-live those perfect long 

days we both spent

growing up together

*

© GRS 9/24