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Lid of the Box
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The lid of the box stood open some way
with all of the contents out on display,
Curiousity showed just a tiny wee doll,
Poking its shoes, dress, but not whole,
There was also a pillow soft as can be,
shaped as a heart that I could just see.
An image that crossed my fleeting mind,
of words of love, gentle and kind.
The image was blurred but there was a face,
peering back from this magical place.
It was under the jug of roses and thorns,
Of a life now closed that I should mourn.
His letters were tied with thin blue string,
Loving read for each word to bring
a tear to my eye as I handled them now,
turning the package of love life vows.
But the treasure that waits is an old worn book,
filling my days of the time that I took.
To ponder on all the prose that he wrote
telling me how loves smothering cloak,
Would cover us safe and keep us secure
waiting for life to give us some more,
Time that I needed to show him I cared,
But he chose to go off instead of stay paired.
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