The Treasure Chest

The old sea chest
Was a relic
Of my grandfather’s reign,
But he had passed away
Long before my time.
The chest was always locked
When I was a kid,
And the mystery
Of what was inside
Kept me intrigued.
My mind ran wild
Imagining the treasures it held,
But I never got
To see what it contained
Until after my grandmother
Passed away,
And she lived
To the ripe old age
Of ninety-eight.
My grandfather
Had been a naval captain
At the turn of the century
And reportedly spent years
Sailing back and forth
To the various ports
Of Southeast Asia
And throughout the South Pacific.
I had always fanaticized
It to be a treasure chest
Full of gold coins,
Emeralds, diamonds
And other jewels
Plundered from
Asia and East India.
I was right
And I was wrong.
It turned out to be
Over thirty years
Worth of letters
Between my grandfather
And my grandmother,
Letters written
While he was at sea.
At the time,
I was profoundly disappointed,
But today,
I wish I had some
Of those letters to read.
What a treasure it would be
To see how
My grandfather thought,
And how the world
Appeared then.
Perhaps he
Was just like me,
Documenting today
For a world
I may never see.