Matthew Brackley Poet Ballad

The Riddle of the Keys

On a day like any other
Two keys were found
One delicate and fine
The other, heavy and of an old design
 
The Castle had no locks on its doors
They were protected by Faerie magick
The keys were very old
No one knew what they were used for
 
Was this set an earlier time?
When such things protected treasures,                                                                      
from covetous eyes?
When such things were locked up pleasures?
 
A key, delicate and fine
Perhaps for a Queen
A key of iron
Made for a King?
To hide something?
 
To find a door?
In which to place a key
To find a lock
Perhaps this is what it is for?
 
The keys were special too
An intricate design
It took the Princess of Magic sometime
To discover the clue
 
When is a key not a key?
When the keys are made fit together
Two keys become one
A map of the heart could be seen
 
In the Great Hall
Was a small hollow
High on the South Wall
The keys entwined
Was this the place to find
 
The keys fitted perfectly
One key cannot exist 
Without the other
Such is nature
The trees
The gentle rain
 
Once in the Great Hall
The true purpose of the keys
Was revealed to all
A gold key
Delicate and fine...
Is love...
Is sunshine...
An iron key,
Heavy in the heart
Heavy to bear
Remorseful
The pieces, fitted perfectly

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