The Old Scrapbook

It speaks of times now long ago
In a voice so soft and low,

“Come, my friend, see what you can see,
Come and take a look at me.

My bright colors are faded and dim,
But my spirit is bright within,

Pictures of people in days gone by,
Laughing and crying, we know not why,

Cards and pamphlets, and programs old,
What are the stories they have told?

Wrapping paper, an old gift tag,
Pieces of this, and bits of that,

Little treasures that people have saved,
Celebrations of special days,

So many mem’ries my pages fill,
They’re waiting now to give you a thrill,

So come, my friend, come take a look,
I am a very special old book,

My binding is cracked, but my heart is whole,
Looking at me is like finding gold.

Written March 30th, 2005