The air-tight Jar

Like a skilled mariner the child negotiated the aisles
Weaving through the trolley traffic
Effortlessly.
 
His hands reached for the glistening thing
Like a beacon of hope -
The air tight jar.
 
The magic my child is in the lid,
Once pressed down
Nothing can escape.
 
So tried as he might
As with a vessel's hatch
To open
To close
To test the lid.
 
But the magic my child is in the lid.
Once used too often
Will lose its grip.
 
So play not my child
Too often with the lid
As it will finally let out
In a final gasp
To mourn in a single way,
The end of its useful days.
 
 

2009