Pretty toys under glass
Pretty toys polished gleam
Surround myself with pretty toys
Perfect space twixt and ‘tween
Pretty Toys neat on shelves
Give me comfort, grouped, displayed
Proof, existence, museum’ed self
Monuments to mind at play
Treasures told and strange it seems
Made to show but never seen
So I sit within my room
At my desk and in the gloom
Never a sigh, complain or deny
Why they are, and why am I
Or wonders lost in travels took,
Joyous sights and final looks
Of wonderous times of God at play
When comes my time to fade away.
