We keep a box locked in our hearts,
of bronzen metal and gold ~
Where we hold fast to all our dreams,
never to be told.

Dreams of flowers and golden rings,
and sunshine for the dark ~
Happy times and rainy days,
and running in the park.

And so my friend, don't loose that box,
for dreams will never end ~
Build them up and make them real,
for true they'll come, my friend.

~*~

~ Mary ~
©1970

~ Dreams are the wings of the soul ~