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Poems A-Z The Key

6/7/2010

3 Comments

 
The door remains locked to me

Until I’ve paid the price to own the key

The room off limits to my sight

Till the open door grants me the right

The house remains a mystery

Until invitation comes to me

It all starts with a simple key

Turning a cylinder that sets me free

So small to hold there in my hand

So big to open what’s really grand

The gate is locked and fast is closed

Restrictive rules strongly imposed

I have this key given in trust

So open the gate, yes I must

The biggest possibilities there are to be

Start with the smallest little key

David Kettler, 4/10/09

This poem is dedicated to my friend Shirley Doolittle who once spoke about the key in a Gospel meeting in Riverside. The thought was that the key is very small but it opens a lock that is bigger than itself. The lock then opens a door that gives access to a room which is part of an even larger house. When I wrote down “key” for my choice of alphabet poem in “K” a lot of these thoughts came back to me.  



 

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