Found and Lost

There was no key until I got the door
There was no found until the lost.
Everything vanishes like the sun at dusk.
So the key,
pulled out of my pocket by a sprite.
A dirty trick until I laughed
and had a leisurely cup of tea.
Retracing my steps,
there came the door,
then lying forlorn
under leaves on the ground,
my lovely lovely key.

©Susa Silvermarie 2024

(photo: my son Dave who has always had the key to his mother’s heart.)

Leave a Reply

I welcome your comments

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Name and email please:) I don't spam.