The Treasure Chest
He knelt upon the golden sand,
A map still clutched within his hand,
The chest before him, old and wide,
With secrets locked away inside.
Its hinges creaked a tale of yore,
Of pirates, dreams, and distant shore,
He lifted slow the heavy lid—
And gasped at what the shadows hid.
A glow poured out like morning sun,
As if the stars had come undone,
And in the light, a swirling stream
Of all the wonders he could dream.
A compass spun with magic grace,
A feather from a phoenix race,
A marble made of lunar glass,
A bell from lands where wishes pass.
His eyes grew wide, his heart took flight—
The world had changed in just one night.
Not for the gold, nor sparkling prize,
But for the dreams that filled his eyes.
So if you find a chest one day,
While wandering down a secret way,
Remember this: the best you’ll see
Is what it helps your soul to be.
The Crazymad Writer Writes Again 