Dreams In A Box

Perched upon my cosy bed,
An old wooden box on my lap;
Of a color, a deep chestnut red,
My fingers tentatively on its flap.

Caressing the worn out seams,
Reflecting on days when just out of my nest;
Armed with some precious dreams,
That I packed into the vast chest.

Releasing them from their alcove,
The priceless jewels of life's crown;
Letting them fly into the skies above,
To watch them come alive on their own!