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The Music Box

Alma Cook
Alruhi@aol.com


You loved to visit the house
On the mountains.
You made sure that you visited
Nearly every day.
You made sure that you saw him.
The good doctor.
The one who would hold you in
His arms when you felt troubled.
When you felt tears fall from your
Eyes, he would hold you and open
The music box.
The pretty music would flood your soul
As your tears dried. Though sometimes you
Just kept crying.
But for different reasons.
Because you knew that he would hold you
In his arms and you would feel his heartbeat.
And you would feel his breath against you.
And when you cried, he played the music box
And sang sweet lullabies to you.
And tell you that everything would be all right.
His long, dark hair would tickle you as he kissed you.
As his gentle hands caressed you.
He would tell you that music is strange.
That it makes you remember things from long ago.
That it could make you happy.
Or make you cry.
Either way, it would comfort you.
Either way, you would see him again.
And find a reason to cry.


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