On a September Saturday
the attic hideaway revealed
a leather strapped trunk.
"Oh," the young boy's voice
called in surprise, "Great-great
Uncle Buck's treasure map," as he
clasped the worn paper to his heart.
Down the steep steps he ran to Mother,
"Just like you told me, the Rocky Mountains,
the Grand Canyon, Carlsbad Caverns, and even
the pirate treasure island in the Carribean."
Mother smiled, "Now don't you go getting ideas,
young man. Mama told me your great-great
Uncle Buck wasted all his young years searching
for hidden treasure shown on this map he had found."
"And he never discovered the treasure?" the young voice queried sadly.
"Only when he returned home, after miles and miles of travel.
Staying true to himself, finding his heart, not listening to those who said
he couldn't, that is when he founded the local museum," said Mother.
Smiling knowingly, the boy said, "And he found Great-great Aunt Emma!"
(The story continues with part two)
Bronze trophy winner
Adding your comment:
Has the feel of an adventure in the making and I like this very much. 
Well said, good poet!
