Sunday, February 27, 2011
The Royal Guardian (for One Stop Poetry's One Shoot Sunday)
The Royal sits where it has for nigh on a hundred years. The sentries, those guardian keys, keep silent secret fears. Its case bears scars of writer's blood, stained with dreams and tears. It holds the final sheet of paper from some long-forgotten ream, and keeps it well for someday it would tell a writer's fancied dream. Its limbs--its lever, keys and knobs--stiff with age--disuse--await a loved one's oiled kiss like passion returns life.
What tales that Royal Guardian told so many years ago. What tales it'd tell again for bold, creative fingers. Yet passed by for backspace keys and ghostly words on screens, bare hints of writers' former pleas to coax a story to life. And still it faithful sits at ready. . .perchance one day. . .
Photo gratefully borrowed from http://www.jackazphotography.com/