A Dusted Memory Book

A dusted memory book lays open,

Untouched by time's passage.

It lays ready each time

I reach back and I ask it.

 

The many years' dust and grime

Have never touched its surface,

Because each day it reappears,

And the memories come to resurface.

 

It's pages look like polished brass,

They're as shiny as newfound splendor.

Whenever i need and reach for them,

They sparkle and they glimmer.

 

The memories come passing through,

Like pages turning in perfect rhyme.

They take away my present position

And take me to another time.