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Tattered 'round the edges,
And faded now with time;
Memories that linger still,
Are what they left behind.
Like a precious package,
Kept in a secret room;
Each memory a treasure,
A family heirloom.
On rare and quiet occasion,
The package opens wide;
Revealing then the memories,
That nestle there inside,
Faces etched in memories
Like photos from the past;
Each snapshot printed in the heart,
Are memories that last.
Worn and ragged photographs,
So faded now with time;
Yet the lasting love deep in your heart,
Is what they left behind.
Allison Chambers Coxsey
©1996
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