On this mantel of painful neglect,

Sits a music box I shall never forget.

With its magical chimes and sing song rhyme

which speak reflectively of another time.

So here sits I, in this sorrows stare,

With soul revealing and memories to bare.

For I remember the day that I gave it to you,

I was in hope that its music and tiny ballerinas whirl with golden curl,

would lift your spirits away from that somber shade of blue.

Oh how memories can ring so true , for with the simplest of ease,

Can I with tears shaded eyes…see you turning that little silver key.

I can remember as I watched as you dance so merrily around the room,

singing and crying and sometimes sighing with the little music box’s tune.

I so recall as you proudly exclaimed,

That this little box, was the best gift that had ever come your way.

Oh how I remember that sweet and wonderful day,

when the little music box with the ballerina on top did play.

However now with dust on its lid and thoughts of ill regret,

Does this little magical box sit…

For I my love..... I shall never forget.

J. Allen Wilson © 2004