Treasure Hunt

Each day I set out,
Like a curious scout,
In search of a land of surprises;
And the treasures I find,
In the earth and my mind,
Are like beauty in all its disguises.
 
There’s the scent of the rain
And a church window pane,
The kiss of my love and her smile;
There’s the dog’s wagging tail
And a card in the mail,
The shard of a bright coloured tile.
 
By the end of the day,
Spent at work or at play,
I add to the chest of my treasures:
The plume of a bird,
A song that I heard –
I’m rich with my horde of small pleasures.
 

Wayne Visser © 2011

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