YOUR GIFTS

My treasures are not priceless jewels,

Or pictures very rare,

They're the many little loving gifts

Which show how much you care,

The wooden soldier and the car,

Now faded by the sun,

The airplane you gave with pride

And the Indian with his gun,

The book of stories, your very own,

Was a very special prize,

For you had nothing else to give

So it's precious in my eyes,

There's also a little box,

It's pink and very small

And its contents are all quite minute,

The most precious gift of all,

But they're our secret, yours and mine,

No one else can know they're there,

For they are proof of the way we feel

And the special love we share.

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