The Storyteller

Tucked away now there you stay.

Those cardboard pages no longer bright,

Of one little car, lost in the night.

Aged and frail in boxes you lay.

I sat with you time and time again,

Listening, learning, creating memories to keep,

The echoes remain, but the years, they creep.

Words now cracked, yet verses remain.

Crooked spine, you’ve lost your form,

Still joy floods back with the turn of a page,

Time melts away, I forget my age.

To be three again, cozy and warm,

Reciting the lines, memorizing each word.

Your laughter, your smile so dear to me still,

I’ll pass your heart on, to my love I will.

My daughter now three, the story unheard.

Don’t fret, as soon I’ll bring this to light,

I’ll gift her the story we treasured so much,

It’s not only me your memory will touch,

As soon those words her lips shall recite.