Marbles so small,

So unusual,

Translucent like an eyeglass,

Looking through your view past childhood,

The playful times of marbles,

The smoothness of them glide around on your palm,

The coldness of their touch,

Transport back toward the moments,

Good moments as children,

Innocent children,

Not grasping or acknowledging the real world, 

As we peer within the marble,

The clear marble,

The colorful marble,

The marble in which lines of colors twirl

Dancing in the glass never settling to rest

We gaze into it as children soon trapped in its hypnotic ways

We were all trapped in the glass bubble,

The bubbles shield,

Shielding us from the corruption,

The sins of the world,

The harsh world,

I loved marbles,

The escape,

The moments that take me back,

Back to a time as children,

When the world was good,

When everything was right and fixed,

Now I retain a marble close by,

So that sometimes I can slip away,

When all is broken and torn,

The marble aids the feeling of contentment in the days,

The joyful days when I was a child.