Close to My Heart

When I scatter words along – like crumbs to mark my path,
They reveal the stories of my youth – and all my age…
Setting them then to rhymes or regimented verse,
I find myself exposed on every page…
A tender recollection of a moment with a child,
Ballads of the heroes from my past,
Words escaping from a heart… emotion overflowing,
Passions of my youth – the die was cast…
Lost and maybe some ill-chosen love, but who could know
Secrets kept and shared – then set apart…
Spinning time and gathering each thought and phrase you see,
Are things I hold the closest to my heart.
copyright 2006    Carol Smith