Heirloom

These memories, like trinkets long discarded, out of reach

And though I search elusive they remain

With faded paint, and gold hue once so bright now dim

Ensnared with such a wonderous pull now seems like pointless whim

You held it in your hand, I think, though cannot be so sure

For memories aren’t always believed

And where I saw it last slips through cold, frail grasping fingers

And names once tripped from sparkling tongue, now only in fog lingers

Instinct pricked, elusive elements of something once so sure

This certainty, now possible or maybe

I search, I know it’s to be found, so close, so very near

This trinket, bauble, well loved toy, that now seems oh so dear

AB