Here sits a wood and leather box
inside which lies a treasure.
I keep it there, for it’s not often needed.
I’ve given up this trinket to a few.
Each time it’s returned
the edges are more pitted,
enamelled surface chipped in places
vibrant, previous, with color.
Its once-perfected form sports chinks
never intended by nature.
And this imperfect heart,
markèd by long living,
roughened by hard loving,
is the blemished jewel I hold here
in the hollow of my hand
and offer now to your safekeeping.
© 2012 RC deWinter
What I have to give..it’s yours if you want it.