The Box

| Filed under

Contributor: Stacy J Maddox

- -
I went to visit her today
And I realized the seasons had changed again
Standing there between the bare maple trees
I thought of the box marked, 'Memories'
That I could never bring myself to open
After she was gone

Laying the flowers at her feet
I said one last goodbye
And as I walked back down that old road
I tried to think of the things I would say
If she were here with me now
Oh, did she really ever know?

Sitting in the attic
Holding onto the box, I cried
For I remember the day she sealed it up
She said we would open it, when we grew old
And as I watched her put it away
She turned around to say, “I'll always love you”.

I took her in my arms and held her tight
When she smiled up at me
For there were no words to describe
How I felt at that moment
And now, missing her so much
I wish she were here to hold once again

Laid inside the box were souvenirs
Long forgotten to me
A little stuffed bear I had won for her
On our first date together
A guitar pick and an old shirt of mine
She used to love to wear

Dried roses and cards
Brought back glimpses of her
Letters full of promises
And pictures that made me smile
At last I picked up her diary
Kept since she was a child

Scattered dates and tales of growing up
I saw a side I never knew
She had written about the day we had met
When she was just sixteen years old
And how she felt it in her heart
That I was the only one for her

The final entry she had made
Were the words of a love song
It was the one I had sung to her
On the day we were married
And as I read each line, there was no doubt
That she had always believed in me.

- - -
Stacy J Maddox is a varied hobbyist & artist, living in the fast-paced and diverse city of Lawrence, KS USA. She loves to soak up the sun by the river and feel the water rush over her feet, or walk the trails to take photographs and explore. Stacy has been published in over 30 books, print magazines and online websites, and has been has been passionate about Art, in all forms, for over 30 years.


Powered by Blogger.