Sunday, March 24, 2013

The jar full of stories!

When there is a story to tell
It just overwhelms my heart,
Like an unruly mountain stream
Can’t hold back, can’t wait to start.

And then the story twists to turns
the ebbing tide leaves an empty shore,
I collect the trinkets, left in the debris,
In pretty jars with tight lids, I store.

Blue, green, red, pink, yellow,
All the bright colors in full glory
The shelves lined in neat rows
Each holding its own story!

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