Son, even after all these years

I still have a box full of your old toys.

For me it is a treasure chest of memories

of your favorite childhood joys.

Occasionally I open the lid to the box

and peer through there.

I cannot help smiling

at your very first teddy bear.

Your old Hot Wheels remind me of the hours you spent with them,

playing on your knees.

How fond you were of those action figures you used

to reenact your favorite movies.

Those blocks of yours,

you used to stack them as high as you were tall.

Remember those crayons that you used

to create a mural on the wall?

I remember how you drove me crazy

playing with those balls inside. Oh the noise!

How many times did I sigh to myself,

“Boys will be boys”?

Your cowboy guns remind me of you running through the house

shouting, “Pow, pow, pow!”

Sometimes I wish you were still small enough

to enjoy those old toys now.

The years have caused you to lose interest,

but from your childhood playthings, I cannot bear to part.

That is why I have kept them safely stored away all this time,

in my memory and my heart.