Vanilla

Oh life is so finite, the things I’ll miss…
The ocean’s scent, the waves in motion,
The incredible rush of “Maybe love”,
The private cove before the breeze,
Blew sand onto my suntan lotion.

I’ll miss my collection of personal things,
First ant farm, old toys and teddy bear,
The thrill of buying a new car,
That taste of real independence
Youth’s ticket to move anywhere.

I don’t want to miss material things,
Like Imelda’s shoes, left behind in Manila…
I want to remember a compliment,
Conquering an incredible challenge,
And most of all, the smell of vanilla.