Pocketfull of Marbles

A child just half past six
Drawing circles in the sand
Waging tiny marbles
Firmly gripped within his hand.

His favorite, a shooter
Daddy’s gift, he never bet
Lest he not remember
Lest forever, he forget….

He waged those tiny marbles
‘gainst the best that came his way
On dirt-lined streets and playgrounds
Where he ventured everyday…

And there along life’s highway
Tiny marbles represent
Lessons learned from winning
And the losses he had spent…

Time would take those marbles
He had gathered ‘long the way
And render them asunder
On the playgrounds where he play…

Until such time as age defined
Those marbles he had lost
Would redefine his memories
And spent at such a cost…

He’s long since lost the shooter
Daddy’s gift to eldest son
He recollects with sadness
All the tasks he’s left undone…

Among his daily duties
Ever seeking, yet to find
That precious tiny marble
Represents his state of mind….

Todays best new poem was written by L. Summerton Morgan.


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