Poetry by Jeff Green


Behind the door

by cricketjeff on September 14, 2008.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

Beneath a wilting weeping willow tree
All bound in silver bands I found a box
Inside the silvered box I found a key
And when you find a key you look for locks

Between two roots I think I see a door
Its hinges hide inside their rust and age
An ancient stone the threshold on the floor
My curiosity takes centre stage

The key I found unlocks the passageway
The door protests but opens with a creak
Within my head a warning seems to say
Within this door no mortal man may speak

I pass the door but what will be behind
There must be ancient secrets here to find

Beneath the wilting weeping willow tree
The dwarfs who hewed the valley lie in sleep
They will not rise while men are walking free
The sleep of countless ages still hangs deep

I pick my way past countless sleeping shapes
Towards a light upon the farthest wall
Another door beneath some heavy drapes
So tiny that to pass I have to crawl

Behind this door the scene is full of life
An elven army work to save the land
Repairing all the worst of human strife
Complaining that we do not understand

It seems the world’s not ours to wreck and spoil
Her beauty is the fruit of other’s toil

Beneath the wilting weeping willow tree
I steal away in silence to my world
To safely put away the magic key
And leave the dwarfs all sleeping where they’re curled

I’ll try to tell the people that I meet
That they should take more care of Mother Earth
I know my mission cannot be complete
Until all men know what the world is worth

If you should walk in woods and chance to find
A box all tightly bound in silver bands
You’ll see a door and know what lies behind
And know the world’s the work of other’s hands

So take a while to think in all you do
The world does not belong to only you