Treasured Things

Some folks see no value,
In a lot of jiggly-springs.
A junk-jar that my Grandpa had,
Was full of treasured things.

The pearled-chest upon the stand,
With white-birds etched on wing.
Told us the look in Mother's -eyes,
Made it a treasured thing.

The bible on the up-stairs shelf,
Wrapped up in silken string.
With reverence for its holy words,
Made it a treasured thing.

The gospel sounds proclaiming truth,
What a sincere hope...it brings.
And every heart embracing it,
Knows it's a treasured thing.

Sweet virtue, hanging to my soul,
With clear, high honor swings.
To know I'm whole, my heart is pure,
Makes it a treasured thing.

There are so many claims to earth,
And the memory...that here clings.
That life is beautiful on it's way up,
To those eternal things.

E.P. 1908 - 1989

Michael Robertson - photo taken by Joseph Henry Miller