The Treasure Chest

by Janet Foor

A daunting silence fills my mother's home.
The wake is o'er; the mourners have all gone.
This sadness that I feel is bittersweet --
as I recall my childhood until dawn.

Tomorrow I will clean this lovely house --
preparing it for sale to someone new.
I shuffle off to dream of better days
until I spy a box with ribbons blue.

High on a shelf in momma's room I see
a chest of treasures from another time.
Love poems from my dear departed dad
and written to my mom in perfect rhyme.

The dreadful day the rent could not be paid.
Sad tears because they couldn't have a child --
then tears of joy when they adopted me.
Between each line I saw them, and I smiled.

Their lives of love are charted on each page.
They echo and resound from every wall.
As I grow old, I want to be like them.
Their steadfast love has touched us one and all.

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