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Ignatius Hosiana Nov 2015
Treasure every breath you make
It could be the last you take
Treasure the lake, sail the sea
Little beauty left in the world to see
Treasure even the stranger by the boulevard
You just can't tell the much that person's endured
Treasure the road even if you doubt where it leads
For the beautiful scar,a wound bleeds
Treasure the clear sky and the clouds when they come
It's not everyday we go through storms and find calm
Treasure the dusk as darkness creeps in at nightfall
As you treasure the Sunrise treasure the fall
Treasure the trees even after they've lost their leaves
Treasure kindness like everyone gives
Treasure humanity like all other species don't matter
Treasure every person and treasure the latter
Treasure the world as family probably we might find peace
Treasure all the time you spend like the cash you borrow
Treasure yourself like you cherish that first kiss
Treasure Today like there's never gonna be a tomorrow
WhyamIaSpoon Dec 2013
I treasure my treasure chest
For treasuring treasure chests leads to pleasure -- the best
The treasure in my treasure chest I treasure because it's a treasure of no measure

Somehow ten cases in, there's more to discover
More to uncover about my treasure chest

On the outside, she looks like golden plated happiness
Shining with her spirit through gems of holiness

I am the key

But this treasure chest itself is not a treasure for the treasure it holds but because it is a treasure
Look at the chest
See how its been blessed
Look past the gems
And see what's repressed

It's dark ten layers down
******, grimy, and bitter
You see what's underneath wallowed in litter
But this is the true face what's treasured for pleasure
Ten layers down you find that bit of glitter

That you hold them in your palm
Trusting you with the key
That when the treasure is revealed
You will turn and be their shield
A Psalmist Jun 2016
As the brook babbles sweetly o'er the hedges
there is but one voice I hear.
It hums and sings, calling out solely
     for His Treasure and Bride
He has scattered love notes all around
Placing them on stems and sticks
Leaving them in the sky's warmth
And in its cool kiss.
He knows His Treasure and Bride.
Nothing escapes His watchful sight:
No thought, no feeling, no prayer.
He calls his most beloved by these two names.
One incomplete without the other.

He declares its value before all other kings.
There are no stones or metals more precious,
Rubies are not as rich, sapphires are not as scarce
Gold holds no comparison in His eyes.
As the King of kings, He takes the choicest of all that is valued.
So He calls the one He loves His Treasure.
He boasts in His Treasure.
Pure unlike anything else.
The voice that gives the Treasure its worth also declares its authority.

Yes, a worthy treasure, but more so a lovely Bride.
His beloved owns both titles.
If left as just a treasure, then it would be like all others.
He says his Treasure is more than an object.
Not a trophy gained from His most difficult battle.
One does not die for an object or possession.
He makes His treasure His Bride.
Their lives into one, a full union.
Worth beyond all other treasures and love surpassing anything else.
His Bride and Treasure.
Both are needed to see the one He loves through His eyes.
If only Bride, there may be question
As to His delight or devotion.
Yes, He could lay down His life,
But oh where is the joy?

Bride and Treasure.
Intimacy and delight.
Sacrifice and zeal.
His words etched into time.
Never to be moved.
Never to be doubted.
His love will last all of His days.

As His whispers waft in the breeze
His Love hears and knows that He beckons.
Purely to be, to exist, to commune
And in every moment, He reminds
Of how He found His Treasure and sold all He had
     to make her His Bride.
It has nothing to do with Silver and Gold treasure
There is nothing in material value to measure
It doesn’t surround love of pleasure
I am not talking about a intimate interlude
Yes when you think on love follows soothe
But true hidden treasure is the goodness of one’s self
Sometimes you think of everything being in a treasure chest found in the attic
But there you go again thinking you are a rich fanatic
The hidden treasure is actually your own heart feeling the joy
Breathe in all that admiration
Look high in the sky with all that appreciation
There’s your hidden treasure
You are the possibilities and your purpose controls your realities
Hidden treasure you never thought about
You are that hidden treasure
Finding who you are and where you want to be
Reflection in and day out
Your own treasure to cherish
Hidden not
But a good find
It’s the charisma heart being unhidden treasure that is divine
Whiskurz  Dec 2012
The Treasure
Whiskurz Dec 2012
High on a mountain in a foggy mist
He buried his treasure one night
He laid it down in the cold dark ground
Beneath the bright moonlight

A tree is where he placed his X
To mark where his treasure lay
A mountain man who lived off the land
A place he was destined to stay

All alone just him and his treasure
It had been that way for thirty-five years
But late at night by dim moonlight
He would often be brought to tears

Each day he would check on his treasure
Beneath that lonesome oak tree
In an old wooden box then covered with rocks
For whoever passed by would see

He cherished his treasure that only God gives
And he would for the rest of his life
Until one day the man passed away
And was buried beside his wife

Another X was made on that tree
Her treasure was finally found
Years have passed but he's home at last
Beside his treasure in the ground
there was a little mole and digging was his pleasure
he took a little trip to try and find some treasure
he jumped on  a plane far across the sea
to a desert island where treasure just might be
he walked along the sand then suddenly he saw
a great big cross  marked out. on the island shore
mole began dig to see what he could find
if there was any treasure that someone left behind
the mole dug very fast at this he was the best
then there in the hole sat a treasure chest
he lifted up the lid and there before his eyes
there was lots of treasure all of different size
mole he was  so happy his treasure hunt was done
hunting for his ***** had give so much fun
Michelle Brunet Mar 2014
Inside my heart, deep within a well
A treasure chest of peace resides.
There for me when it seems
Like there’s nothing left to break.
After all the layers of my soul
Feel shattered, are weak.
Calming me even when
I’m deep in anxiety.

A broken mess touching this
Treasure chest buried deep within
Restoring a strength I thought lost,
Pushing me to take a new step,
To keep pressing forward,
Giving me a reason to smile,
To never give up
When all seems lost.

A treasure chest of hope,
There to put me on my feet
When it seems I've lost my way,
Can’t find an open door.
Giving me a light to look for
In the dark mess surrounding,
This maze I’m trapped in,
These endless tunnels blinding.

A treasure chest of joy
Stitching back the pieces of my heart,
Giving me a hand to wipe these tears
That stream down my face.
Unlocking laughter that burbles
Without reason or cause,
Simply because I can be happy
In spite of all the road blocks.

A treasure chest of determination
Daring me to run at those
Obstacles and overcome them.
Giving me a bounce back in my step.
The answers I need,
That were always inside of me
And the will to seek
The ones that are missing.

Unlock my inner treasure chest
And you will find a force
To be reckoned with.
An independent soul
With a heart to pursue life
With arms wide open
And a strength to accomplish
Even her wildest dreams.
© Michelle Brunet 2014
Weeds.
Thorns.
Briars.
Cover the garden.
Hiding all that is under them.
I pull.
I tug.
I endure the noise of the machine.
To get rid of every single one.
I labour.
And then.
I uncover.
Green treasure.
Shiny leaves of green.
Soft leaves of juniper.
As two lovely bushes are exposed,
from under their long-endured
weedy cover.
Is this how it is with the trials of life?
The pain.
The rejection.
The anger and sorrow.
Like the weeds that try to cover.
The hope of tomorrow.
The weeds that try to hide.
The hidden treasure.
Of what God wants to teach me through this.

Hidden treasure.
Hidden treasure.
Of knowing He loves me all through the storm.
The hidden treasure of knowing I am His.
And because of this...
I shall see His goodness.
Because of this...
I shall behold...
Hidden Treasure.

(C) Elizabeth T., 2016
Early morning gold
Turned priceless treasure
In vortex of noon furnace
Then glowing platinum in galaxy stars

Aureate treasure in golden prize
Cascading in effulgence on love plateau
Roaringly flowing violet waters in emerald

You are my priceless jewel
You are my priceless jewel
You are my priceless jewel

Rolling love waves blooming
On the immortal golden love- ocean
On the infinite love tapestry
Reigning eternal in my heart

Joan! A sapphire in platinum
A treasure in treasure
A gold of countless karat

You are an invaluable treasure!
You are an invaluable treasure!
You are an invaluable treasure!
Sam Anthony Jun 2017
When nights grow long and lights fall dim
The pale moonlight casts a fine shadow
‘Cross the pathways in front of the grand cathedral
And behind the tree in Helen’s Meadow
To set our scene anew once more

Mothers and fathers draw children close,
Gathered before the friendly fire
The Tale bubbles forth from long-worn thoughts,
Words strung and sung to the oft-plucked lyre
Wise words from rough tongues to desperate ears

Just one warm home sees silence then
Its riches a veil to hide bleak sorrow
For The Tale long told holds secrets dear
To the hearts of yesterday and tomorrow
And pierces today's with a vice-like grip

The daughter of Walter stares into the fire
Its crackling embers a restless reminder
Of Grandfather Friedrich, the gods-fearing Knight
And Grandmother Helen - his quest to find her
And doom-laden journey it turned out to be

The rumours of dragons had plagued Olde Vorlund
For decades before the armies marched in
Their crests aflame with glorious colours,
Their fanfare a growing, melodious din,
A cacophany borne of love and blood

Atop his throne, bedecked in red robes
The mighty King Halred announced loud and clear
“Behold! A call to all men of Vorlund
“Hear this, mighty warriors from far and from near
“This offer, unique in its time, is for you.”

The men of Olde Vorlund gathered around
Their listening ears silenced anxious hearts
King Halred drew breath, his standard raised high
Anticipation and fear in equal parts
As he opened his mouth to speak

“Our kingdom’s treasure,” his voice rang true
“Is stolen by bandits from the Northern Wastes
“I call on our bravest to arm themselves
“And travel abroad to that cursed place
“To retrieve what is rightfully ours.”

The eyes of the gathered remained fixed on Halred
Not daring to dart to the left or the right
The danger, now felt here, of bloodthirsty pagans
Made fully grown men crave for fear of the night
Or torture in dungeons at home

REWARD, read the image hung from the Great Hall
Finding the treasure not only for glory
The warrior who would restore Vorlund’s wealth
Would inherit a title, lands and a story
Sung by bards at home and abroad

Eight men approached Halred, on bended knee
Offering service to the gods’ chosen leader
Armed and armoured by the best in the land
And gifted a horse from Vorlund’s finest *******
To take them far north and away from home

The names of The Eight are remembered in legend:
Grimwold and Stafn, the brothers in white
Falki, the trickster, determined to conquer
Friedrich, as calm as a cool autumn night
And Bekan, the selfish and greedy hunchback

Olde Vorlund women grieved as Bolli left town
While Dyri and Kali told jokes to each other
The Eight dressed and ready set north all together
While sweet lilting songs caught the ears of the mother
Of each man, a dirge drifting into the night

The Eight crossed countryside fair and rough
Young Kali was first to meet his end;
A bear thought nothing of gripping his head
And ripping his life away from his friend
And Dyri lost hope on the road soon after

The next whose clock struck was beautiful Bolli
A one-handed brute beat his head with a club
After Bolli took single-armed’s wife to his bed
Then cared not to carefully tidy his mess up
Bolli’s bed now has been made in the ground

The Five now remaining approached the Wastes
Expectant to loot and return Halred’s treasure
Bekan crept onward to rob from the robbers
The length of his life met the end of its measure
And Four woke that day without knowledge of how

Grimwold and Stafn, the brave pair of brothers
Led Friedrich and Falki towards Bandit Town
Atop a near ridge they hollered their war cry
Fear entered the village as they bellowed down
One half of the bandits retreated that day

The battle that followed was swift, fierce and ******
Six hundred the number that met death that night
Among them was Falki, whose creeping and sneaking
Worked wonders until he tripped into a fight
And lost both of his hands before losing his life

The brothers in white and Friedrich the younger
Cared not to stop fighting while the sun did not shine
By morning the sight of the town was burnt crimson
The blood of the bandits caught up with spilt wine
And burned-out log cabins in every direction

The treasure was gone, like it never existed
An empty town holding now one lonely crone
Who said that the treasure had passed three days’ north
Ulred the barbarian’s treasure hoard grown
Stolen again by that fearful monster

The Three from Olde Vorlund resolved to continue
Tracking the man with his ill-gotten hoard
Across barren plains and through thick forests
They followed him, tugging his faintly-laid cord
Closing to grasp at the glory ahead

After one noon they discovered a strong trail
Signs of a scuffle there clear on the path
Excited, the Three embraced and moved onward
Ready to face the Barbarian’s wrath
And eager to grasp what was stolen at first

The opening glimpse of their quarry shook the Three
The lone-acting Ulred was less than alone
A lady in chains paced in time by his side
A beautiful maiden he’d made for his own
A desperate soul for the Three to redeem

The brothers in white found it hard to resist
They leapt out at Ulred, their swords in their hands
His legend stood firm as his axe found its mark
And both fell at once, their blood feeding the land
The Barbarian roared in a victory scream

And Friedrich, alone, hid behind a grey boulder
Showing no fear as he planned what to do
Gathering his wits, he took one final look
And paused as his eyes opened wide as a flue
For his sight was not filled with Ulred alone

The great dragon landed, the ground gave a shudder
Brave Ulred stood firm, caught with no chance to choose
As Friedrich looked on, the grand lizard attacked
In minutes the strong man lay bleeding and bruised
And a firm stamping foot ended one more great saga

The dragon, distracted by the screaming girl
Ignored the great treasure hoard piled on the cart
In one taloned claw he grabbed hold of his prey
And flapped his wings gracefully, using his art
And leaving young Friedrich to claim what was sought

But Friedrich cared not for the infinite bounty
For what can great wealth be when won at such cost?
He mounted his steed and stared straight at the dragon
They started at speed before the trail was lost
And Friedrich prepared himself to die that day

The dragon swooped low as they approached the sea
Protecting its prisoner by skirting the cliffs
Diving away, it took stock of the cliffside
And headed directly past massive sand drifts
Into a cave set below a large rock

Friedrich dismounted and leapt down the cliffside
Bare hand by bare hand he descended bravely
Arriving at the cave mouth within minutes
He paused for a moment, considering gravely
How he could save his dream lady at last

Grabbing dark moss from the base of the white cliffs
He covered himself, dressing up as a bush
He crept into the dark, every movement so dainty
Each step requiring his body to push
And holding his breath to protect his fair maiden

The cave was so deep and the tunnels so winding
Lost in the dark, blindly following the trail
At long last he saw her, ******* in the corner
The dragon had left her in his self-made gaol
And Friedrich strode up to her, one aim in mind

He released her so quickly, she collapsed in his arms
“My saviour!” she whispered in gratitude and love
In great need of rest, she pulled Friedrich close
And one night of passion settled from above
And Friedrich and Helen became one that night

As morning drew near, Friedrich woke with a start
The dragon was back and was roaring with rage
He woke up dear Helen, took her onto his back
And ran back to sunlight to take centre stage
To face down this great beast who threatened his wife

He pushed Helen upwards and onto his horse
Determined to fight off the awesome monster
From the top of the cliff he saw only one option
As the dragon looked upward
Friedrich looked down
And he brandished his axes
And leapt off the cliff
And struck true through the dragon
Saving his Helen
And plunging to death

Helen stared at the scene that unfolded below her
Distraught at the death of her only true love
Then she picked herself up and resolved to complete
The mission her Friedrich had finished part of
And she started her mount towards Ulred’s grave

She returned to the spot where the dragon had grabbed her
And looked at the treasure that Friedrich had sought
She picked up an apple and carefully planted
A tree to remember him of whom she thought
He who gave up his life so that she might live

The Tree of Friedrich still stands to this day
In Helen’s Meadow, not far from the sea
And their memory remains in tales and song
But words are not all of this couple we see
For that passionate night led to more than one seed

Helen took all the treasure and raised up an army
Who stormed Olde Vorlund for all it was worth
Then as Queen, nine months later, a new son was born
And the bloodline of Friedrich continues each birth
Ruling the people with justice and mercy

So here ends our tale of sorrow and hope
Of a brave young man who gave up his life
And as children today think of all that he did
They forget everything that they feel causes strife
And remember that love, faith and hope rule the day
This isn't as long as I really wanted it to be.
Ashe L Bennett Feb 2011
I don't remember, any more,
The exact shape of your hands
As I held them in mine,
Caressed them,
Memorized the length of your fingers,
The depth of your calluses.

I don't remember, any more,
Exactly your height, how much
Taller than me
You were, where
My head rested on your chest
When you held me tightly close.

I don't remember, any more,
Your scent, when we lay together
Creating our own
Magic rhythm,
Matching our heartbeats as we
Touched the sky, together.

I don't remember, any more,
The sound of your voice, calling
My name as though
It were a song
Within itself, a precious treasure
You valued with all your being.

And I don't remember, any more,
The color of your eyes, the shape
Of your lips,
Only...
How your eyes crinkled at the corners
And your laugh, as you told me,

"I love you."
Copyright by Ash L. Bennett, 2011
Jessie Schwartz Feb 2018
Treasure…by Jessie 4/05


Today I dug up a treasure, kept buried rather deep

Treasures frail when left exposed to the elements won’t keep

Knowing I had but one chance, to keep the treasure safe

I rushed it over to you, in your hands the treasure placed

I’m making you the keeper; in you I give my trust

To keep this treasure shinny and never let it rust

Keep it protected at all times, never let it break

Hold it close against you, so no one else can take

Keep a watchful eye and never be too far apart

For in your keeping, is the treasure of my loving heart

— The End —