The Locked Box - Poem
End of a perfect day, after our picnic –
the forest so alive - and so were we -
anticipation bubbling –
(took my eye off you for a moment)
When in a clearing, I found a box –
locked tight – no key –
(and not liking mysteries)
I tried but couldn’t open it.
What’s a box doing locked?
Keeping people out?
Or keeping something hid -
buried deep inside?
Should I keep it or discard it?
Was this a challenge? Was it a test?
(Not liking to be kept from something...)
I smashed the box with a rock –
no difference –
it lay awkward and damaged –
refusing to yield
its secret.
I was curious so I took it back to our clearing –
but you had disappeared –
(and not liking to sit and wait about)
I fumbled with the lock and a hair pin
to no avail.
Beautiful old wood
and rusty metal.
Sun re-canting its raison d’etre –
and trees were closing ranks -
(and not liking to stay out late in
the evening chill - )
I could not find you, so I
took the box home.
Halfway through supper you
rang me.
“Where are you?” I asked –
the line was bad, but you were
distant and confused –
you were in a strange twilight place –
and feeling lost with no way out -
then you said you needed me.
You were crying and upset –
(and not liking to hear you cry,
and suddenly knowing what to do
because I love you -)
I put on my coat
and grabbed the box –
drove back to the forest through the rain –
I found our clearing – now a swamp –
left the box there and went
looking for you –
I called your name – I called
it a hundred times –
worried sick, I got the torch from the car –
when I turned and there you were.
dishevelled, wet and confused.
We kissed and hugged like crazy –
it was a relief to find you –
I fussed like anything and put you
in the car.
“Where were you?” I asked finally –
we had become separated - you got stuck in a dark strange space –
you felt lost - alone and confused – but after a time
you heard my voice and
(your eyes are beautiful when you look at me)
now we found each other.
Making sure we had everything – I said
“let’s go home, baby” – feeling a
warm wave of love coming from you,
as you snuggled on my shoulder,
I kissed you again -
and we headed back.
(And not liking to leave out anything
I didn’t bother with the box -
I knew it would be open anyway...)
Copyright © 2011 to 2018 Cathy Nerujen. All rights reserved. This is part of a selection of romantic poems taken from a soon-to-be-published poetry collection by Cathy Nerujen, scheduled for 2018. See more at Flashstar Magazine.
Behind The Poem
What follows is a brief explanation of this unusual poem.
Behind The Poem... The Story.
The inspiration for this poem and it's curious surreal story inside it - came from a conversation with hubber Blaise25, better known as Marifel Dungo, poet and my girlfriend, and with Cassy (Cheeky Girl).
This strange and unusual story was somehow destined to be a poem. I labored over this poem for several days. Producing nothing I liked, and not feeling that rhyme suited the subject, I temporarily abandoned the poem in frustration. Call it writer's block, but thankfully, later on Mother's Day, whilst enjoying our day out on a picnic, I found the inspiration and I wrote it again, very differently. My Mum's recounting of my getting lost in a forest as a kid, was the inspirational story for this poetry as it stands, (a recalled story that everyone found very funny) when the one who got lost had been me. Thankfully I lived to tell the tale, and changed things around and reversed characters, as poetic license and imagination allows. And I wrote my poem as you see it now. So I did "unlock" that box after all.
The locked box is a "trope" for something, or perhaps things - but that is for you to discover, as I want to let you enjoy the mystery here. Sometimes poetry allows us wonder about things differently, to travel further and what we end up with is more than poetry. We might even find something we didn't see before. Thanks to you Mum, and Fehl and Cassy for inspiring me - and more besides, and this is dedicated to you all.
Please leave a comment and let me know what you think...
© 2011 Cathy Nerujen