The Box

I had a little box.
It was made of marble
With carvings on the top
And a small, metal handle.

No, I don’t recall
If I got it as a gift,
Or if it was bought
From the local market.

In that little box
I kept my tiny treasures –
Shiny stones I came across,
Shells, beads, and pictures.

With the passing years,
I forgot about the box
And all the tiny treasures
That in it, were locked.

One day, it did appear
When my room, I tidied up.
It was lying in a corner,
Amongst the other stuff.

I opened that little box
With a smile on my face –
For memories, it brought
Of another time and place.

That box is my connection
To my younger self.
It’s my oldest possession
As it sits on the shelf.

I love that little marble box
And the treasures it contains.
With it, time seems to stop,
And I become a child again.