I found it today in a box put away
with letters faded and brown;
with a fan and a bow from the long ago
a flower and a blue silken gown.
Not a treasure of art.
Just a wreath with a heart,
and a verse on a rose-bordered page.
A bit of the past that went by too fast.
A valentine yellowed with age.
With a sigh and a smile, I held it awhile
from the dark of its scented retreat.
Those days were fair - those hours so rare.
The first love of youth is so sweet.
I found it today. Put it gently away,
and remembered the day that it came.
I bent lightly to press one more caress
where my love had written his name.
By Lucille Crumley