Look through the window,
Into a miniature world,
Collected momentoes,
And stories unfurled,
A church with a steeple,
And windows so bright,
A house and a rocker,
A fence painted white,
A candle that sits,
In a silver filigree,
With flowers and vines,
That twist beautifully,
And a lantern that holds,
A scented tea light,
Wick that is scorched,
As it burns in the night,
And a gilded gold frame,
That holds a child’s face,
The smile of a young girl,
With eyes full of grace,
There’s a vase and a pebble,
A china figurine,
All miniature memories,
To be loved and be seen.
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