The Box Of Time

Once upon a time was a magical box.

A box buried in time, never meant to be seen.

‘Till by an unknown miracle, it surfaced.

Bright and clean.

The magical box held a secret of hope,

Of a longing so fierce and true,

Biding its time, riding the tides,

Finding its way home to me and you.

They sit at the edge, over land and sea.

With the view they so loved, twice captivating as can be.

The mountains vast and distant set a remarkable tone.

A cocoon, if you will, to what they have built as a home.

The magical box, so shiny and new,

Came with promises and love,

An inescapable fate, it seemed,

Predestined from above.

The box was woven by destiny,

Kismet, by far,

Yet life had other plans, and decided,

For now, it was not to be ours.

Tearfully, she clasped it, the weight in her arms.

Painfully, “Keep it, protect it,” he said.

Then, reluctantly, he disarmed.

The treasure had held a secret of hope,

Their dreams, their memories, tears and laughter.

And beyond the affection,

The destiny that they sought after.

Once upon a time was a magical box,

That filled with a love,

Missed and found.

It hid in plain sight, buried in time,

‘Till it waited no longer,

And found its way to be yours and mine.