KEYS:

Old keys jingling and jangling, from belt, lock and chain,

Unlocking doors and rusty old gates going down leafy lane,

Keys to the house, the castle, the moat and welcoming home,

Unlocking church and crypt which houses whitened old bone,

Keys unlocking lighthouses, doors to silence and soft solitude,

Keys to the convent, the abbey and to God´s kind beatitude,

Keys of gold, silver, iron, steel and those of cold grey lead,

Keys ornate, plain, big and small enough to hide under the bed.

Opening old doors, trunks, cases, bureaus and musty grey vaults,

Unlocking in creaks, releasing hinges, memories and rusty old bolts,

Revealing secrets hidden and lives of centuries locked tightly away,

Faded mothballed gowns for children to dress up, pretend and play,

The unlucky ones without keys, pick locks, pin-poked and with knife,

And at times in our journey, we´re lucky to find the right key to life,

There is one key I hold dear and which from the others I keep apart,

This key, small and invisible, is the key I hold to your loving heart.