The Secret Treasure
Within the marble walls of a stately, noble mansion,
Which stands in middle of a wondrous mountain woodland,
Upon a silken scarlet cushion in a golden, glist’ning casket
Lay a priceless treasure waiting, longing, pining
To be taken.
Many, oh, so many, they had tried and they had failed
To find and then away to take the secret, silent treasure.
But none of them was worthy of the golden casket’s content
And so ever it lay waiting, longing, pining
To be taken.
Many years had passed and the house began to crumble,
The frigid wintry wind whined, whistling through the windows.
The searchers were deterred by the castle’s dreary aspect,
And the treasure still lay waiting, longing, pining
To be taken.
Then came one dashing hero by the ruin made not fearful,
Hacked a ragged pathway through the vines and bramble-bushes.
He strode through marble halls and rooms until he found the casket
Where the treasure still lay waiting, longing, pining
To be taken.
With many honeyed words did he bribe the treasure’s keeper
And won away with words what others failed to buy with riches.
He stole away the treasure, but his words, they blew away
And the heart that long did wait, and hope, and pine
-Is now broken.
Copyright © Eliot Childs | Year Posted 2014
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