Toy Box
A Children’s toy box,
a wooden soldier,
a block or two,
and a ball therein.
These are tresures
That a child holds dear.
A childhood of wonderment
In each toy that lies near.
As she gets older
The fantasies erode.
Life becomes real.
She follows a new road
Memories of the past are gone
Stored away in her mind
Ahead are new memories to create
New adventures to find
Dreams of another kind
Consume her limited time
And she waits for the day
When she has time to play
To let her imagination run wild
To be as free as a child
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lovely piece, the innocence in a child is priceless.
well done work. Glad to read you.
Greetings, how are you? hope you well!
Hope to see you in Poets Rally Week 38, find Thursday Poets Rally in the header area.
Love your poetry talent and looking forward to a profound experience with your input.
Cheers.
xoxox
give it a try, you may like it, and win awards…keep up the excellence.
AMAZING, VERY WELL DONE : )