A tattered cloth, which glistens gold

One key that locks, the tales untold

The topaz gem, with mystical powers

Keeps them guessing through the hours

That secrets, hidden, deep inside

On pages, yellowed, cracked and dried

Lets imaginations run wild with thoughts

Though they dare not speak, or else get caught

By what was kept by those before

Whose names are spoken, nevermore

 

©Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
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