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Treasure Maker

If I were called 

to create a treasure,

I would take:

 

The sound of

A plate smashing on the hard kitchen floor,

A brutal beast growling under your bed

And the throaty bark from a badly behaved bulldog echoing down Jethro Street.

 

The touch of

A grain of sand from the ground of Blackpool Beach,

The cold air from Neptune

And the burning fire from the Sun dripping like lava boiling out of Mt. Vesuvius.

 

The scent of

Freshly baked cookies marching out of the hot sauna,

The sweet smell of strawberries floating in the air, leaking from the Jo Malone candle

And a twirling tulip twisting like a pretty ballerina.

 

The taste of

A cheeky chocolate cake made with your grandmother’s love,

A silly slice of cheesy pizza made in the fireplaces of Italy

And the sour drop of lemon squeezing onto your tongue.

 

The sight of 

My friends supporting me through every tough challenge,

My hard work being praised with a little sticker at the bottom of the page

And a sausage dog with cute eyes sitting on my doorstep.

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