Ruth Walters


Boxes - Poem by Ruth Walters

On our first date he told me of
the box,
‘Pandora's Box',
would I have him open it or not?

Would I let him go that far?
Should we wait a while?
Would I let him lift the lid?
This kind of made me smile.

Boxes were his weapons
for such a life he'd led,
and to frighten little souls like mine
he'd wrapped a box to send.

What would I find within it,
what would its inners be?
Would I find some demons
or would I find a key?

So I thought on this a moment
and then I answered thus,
'If I asked you that question
would you hesitate or trust? '

With this he shrugged his shoulders,
he grinned and winked his eye.
'I'm not frightened of mere boxes
I dare you, do or die! '

So I told him 'Open it,
let its dust spill out.
for whatever lay beneath its lid
would edify, no doubt.'

So he spilled out all its secrets
of pranks and devilry,
of worldliness and foolishness
like an artist's gallery.

I listened with wide eyes
to this colourful display
until the torrent ceased
and he put the box away.

Most people have their boxes
some large some very small
but the saddest people in the world
don't have a box at all.


Comments about Boxes by Ruth Walters

  • (8/30/2012 4:23:00 AM)


    A good poem and very inciteful. In each box a ball of sting a tangled fishing line, sinkers, hook and swivel and some desiccated bait and a tangent to a fishing trip a holiday or date, did the box carry a sea food dinner or grimace to that plate or a crazy ye olde sea haggy or demented pirate gloat, that beauty never knew and did dare not smote. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Monday, August 27, 2012

Poem Edited: Monday, January 13, 2014


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