My Treasure

Black-rimmed, smooth, pale gold
Patiently I wait remembering
Those long-lost oceans
Those soft sea waters
Embedded in my mind.

Sometimes I am a seed pod
Enclosed in my own thoughts.
My robust character
Has a youthful life ahead.

My jagged edges are no more
I have blunt caramel bumps
On the peak of my ice cream cone.

I sit on the shelf
Suddenly awakened
By the delightful thoughts
Of my imaginative mind.