For “Bowen”

Life, as I’ve aged has become boxes all stored
My only little treasure; my memory hoard
Boxes of memories long cherished and loved
Boxes I wish would stay where they’re shoved
Boxes of futures and chances long missed
One box even holds when I was first kissed
Boxes of laughter and boxes of hates
Boxes of lovers and boxed up lost mates
It’s those of lost loves that hurt most of all
But still I must look in to answer their call
And feel the old pains (but also the joy)
Of special times with playing “you girl, me boy”
And even when that day is long in the past
I still feel regret that it didn’t last
And all that I know is, I’m greater by a heap
From the loves that I’ve lost and those I still keep
So I store them in boxes, those memories dear
So their pain and their joy will always be near
And now that I’m older I know life will flow
One day to my own box, as memories go
Then those boxes of mine; their pleasure and pain
Will go back to the ethers to be relived again.

About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
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