What Precious Gift

What precious gift cannot be sent,
A cup poured gets fuller still;
A golden coin that is never spent,
A space you cannot fill.

A lack of which will weigh you down,
Lead boots of nothing there;
A flood in which you cannot drown,
A game where all is fair.

If ever you should come to find
This gift no more received;
The remedy should come to mind,
Then happiness achieved.

Don’t bother counting what you get,
Such gold but fools can measure;
The test of time that wins the bet,
What you give will be your treasure.

© 2011 Jack Thompson

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