Best Friends

A friend can be forgotten
An isolated and dusty box
Stuffed away, away into the attic
Patiently sitting at the back of your head
Waiting? No, not waiting
Not waiting to be remembered
After all you too, just might be
Another box.

But a best friend?
A best friend will be the one
Who pulls you up to the attic,
A broom in one hand
Your fingers tangled in the other
Dust dances up into the air,
Pirouetting down to the floor
Pixie dust! She says, broom in hand
Suddenly, She's a witch!
No, a wizard! Or Mickey Mouse?

A best friend will forever be
That golden box
Overflowing with ribbons, bows,
Messy drawings scribbled on its sides,
A book of memories, cards,
A crumbling mud pie, daisies,
All stuffed gently, with love,
Into that golden box.
That golden box, that will forever be
Illuminated by the golden light
of the sun
Forever... and ever...


and ever...




and ever...