The Box

We all need a place for those special things...

The rifle barked, a sparrow fell,

and Tommy quickly feigned farewell;

he dared not dawdle on her watch

and madly whittled out the notch,

then dove amongst the hollyhocks

to fetch the feather for his box,

but Tommy tarried with his prey

before the watcher, Willa Dean Grey.

Ms. Willa knew young Tommy’s mind,

and all too well, the killing kind;

for this, though ruddy red-haired lad,

bore telltale traits of mind gone mad:

inscribing deeds done one by one

with keepsakes kept of each one done;

so oftentimes she bent his ear

but Tommy’s monster wouldn’t hear…

A rifle barked, no sparrow fell,

and Tommy never heard farewell,

though Willa whispered, “so long, son”

while calmly carving on her gun,

and then a tuft of auburn hair

was gently clipped and folded square,

then placed with love amongst those locks

in Willa Dean Grey’s most special box.

　

　

Author's Note

Perhaps 'tis true... the apple falls not far from the tree.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i like how you kept it short...it attacks the reader then reluctantly lets go at the end...but we feel the shots...and are left shaking, glad it wasn't we who were shot.

she won't let him grow up like her. and it starts often with animals or birds...and then moves on to humans.

i like this and will want to read more from you...

this is my favorite genre.

you do it well.

jacob

[Mic]

Hi Jacob, and welcome to my page. I've written rather lengthy ones and do enjoy the genre as well, but fear a strict meter might wear on the reader after a few stanzas. Just thought I'd try something short and see if it might work. May gamble and post a long one soon.

Your analysis of the story is spot on.

Thank you for the wonderful comment as well as your time! I'll come visit your page very soon, Jacob.

[Pax]

I could not say more for you have said it more in your authors note...great tale...that matches all the rhyming...well done..

[Mic]

Thank you Pax, for reading and commenting.

[Marie]

A most chilling tale in three verses.. I don't see Willa Dean Grey as a killer but an executioner, doing something that had to be done. Although it seems others had died by her gun...

[Mic]

Was intent on delivering this one in three stanzas, Marie. Wasn't sure it would unfold clearly enough to still provide a little 'huh?' at the end or not, but appears so. Would agree with your assessment of Willa, though one is left to ponder the other mementos in the box.

Thank you for reading as well as commenting, Marie. Always appreciate your thoughts!

[Marie]

You're welcome. I've let myself go somewhat on the balads, but I still believe that the shorter the poem the better.

[Mic]

I enjoy the longer ballads, but fear I'd get mired in details and stray from the story line. Yours are great, Marie, and just may inspire me to try one sometime.

[Marie]

THink up the outline of a story, then set it to verse.

[Sheila Kline]

Great take on "Like Son, Is Mother".....yes, I can relate to your comment of Dexter meeting his mother! Ole' Willa Dean Grey taught him some things, but not everything!
And certainly another with captivating story line to match flow and rhyme!
Bang, bang..........Tommy's monster is eternally silent!

[Mic]

Thank you Sheila. Wanted to see how quickly I could spin a story. Tried to keep it as short as possible. Wasn't sure about the sequence, but hope it works.

Thank you again for your time spent on my page, dear friend!

[Baby Ricochet]

Creepy. Nice job

[Mic]

Is a creepy thought... Dexter meets his mother?

Thank you for your time, Ric... reading as well as commenting!