By what treasure can we measure
the lure of yesteryear,
to recapture innocence, without fear?

By what handle can we grip its fleeting glory?
Precious memories of childhood,
Golden moments from the past.
We guard them in a secret cove,
terrified they will not last.

When pain engulfs us, or our hearts feel
shattered beyond repair,
we race back to the treasure chest,
and search until we find it--

We pull a rock over the entrance to the alcove,
and play for just a while,
where life was simple and beautiful--

Where lfie was love and a smile.

9/29/04