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THE MESSAGE

A box full of time-weathered treasures.
Small things that meant so much.
His hands found the yellowing letters,
caressing them with his touch.

He knew word for word what they'd say.
He'd memorized them all through time.
It seemed he could smell her sachet,
in the satiny ribbons that bind.

Chorus
Who'd think a box could hold smiles.
or paper could carry a love,
returned through the years and the miles,
like a message sent from above ?

Maybe his eyes were so blurred,
maybe his ears were so old,
but he thought it was his name he heard,
and her hands that reached his to hold.

His hands shook with age and emotion,
and a mist rose up in his eyes.
He filled with the same old devotion,
they'd shared when she was alive.

Chorus
Who'd think a box could hold smiles.
or paper could carry a love,
returned through the years and the miles,
like a message sent from above ?

© - 2004 "Future Folk" Music - Betty J. Curtis
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