of keepsakes hoarded over many years:
a trinket: letter: token of old love
forgotten, washed away by gentle tears:
a photograph from childhood, long ago,
where memory's encapsulated shades
of black and white, now faded, serve to show
in frozen movement, little escapades
among imagined fantasies galore.
Oh, then, we could be masters of our fate,
before we knew what life may hold in store,
before we realised it's soon too late
to captain yet another ship, to sail
where calmer waters hopefully prevail.
Penny Smith, Havant, UK