My childhood was such a magical time. My memory takes me back
so many years ago. I had a little friend, my best buddie,
we played together all the time.
We walked the dusty country roads, hand in hand.
One day my little friend showed me a gift from her sister.
She said, "this is a souvenir." She had a special place
on her dresser for this object.
At that time I did to know the word souvenir. I only know she
treated this object almost as it was sacred.
I remember thinking to myself, "I wish I had a souvenir," and
I wondered if ever I would own such a treasure.
Now, I realize the best souvenir I could ever have is those
wonderful childhood memories.
Maybe one day my friend and I will hold hands and walk another
dusty road --- and remember WHEN.
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Comments about this poem (Little Friends by Bertha Gonzalez )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
(1207 - 1273)
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