Curiosity
Looking through the aftermath of a long lifetime together I find a box… A small locked box Curious… No key… A wooden box so like the one my father made before I was born A box my mother stored small treasures… and a small block of Jeweler’s Rouge nestled in a soft cloth This new … old box… this locked box with no key has me wondering… has my curiosity running wild and high Something moves inside making a soft sound as I inspected the box All fastenings held internal screws… keeping the contents safe from my prying screw driver It would remain locked the contents safe Until… A key is found or a key finds me Leaving me wondering… curious… yet respectful of my parent’s Secret Copyright © 2014 Annie – Original PoetryAlways…I wish you peace, joy and happiness, but most of all I wish you Love.
As Ever, Annie
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