Here are all your children in one place,Enshrined behind some glass within a frame.A picture’s like a word, a sign, a name,Symbolic of a much more complex grace.Years of memories lie behind each face,A wild sea no blessing can contain;Years and years of love, of joy, of pain,Of mysteries no heart can hope to trace.Here are all the objects of your love,A frozen section cut away from Time,A summit between dreams and memories,Which you need only look this way to climb;An icon for domestic reveriesThrough which a thousand answered prayers move.

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