Rhyme: Treasures And Blessings - Poem by Caryl Ramsdale
This is my collector's box,
It's small and finely crafted;
My dowry is stored inside
Safe beneath it's inlaid lid.
I'm holding in my small hands
A fortune one would die for;
I thought it beyond my means,
'Twas a dream and nothing more.
Sometimes I just peek inside
Where it's plush and velvety;
There's a whisper of fragrance
That enhances what I see.
This box holds a mystery
That has puzzled heads of state;
Some call it a lot in life,
Most others label it fate.
I think it's the opposite,
We can choose what our life brings;
I want what the Lord can give,
Heaven's treasures and blessings.
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