Sunday, August 26, 2007

The Lamp

I had decided the night before,
in the line I would camp.
The genie would again be there
with his powerful lamp.
I watched as peasants became kings,
eagerly crowned with royal fame.
Instantly ruling over those,
from which they recently came.

Why did I resort to waiting in such a line?
I had been diagnosed with a disease
the doctors couldn’t completely define.
The only details provided were terribly grim,
unlikely I’d survive; the odds one in ten.

“Sir; do you believe these wishes,
are only for those physically here?”
I was afraid that the chaos of it all
had confused the poor dear.

He explained his worry was for his family;
bless the unfortunate tyke.
His eyes filled with tears,
as he told of their plight.
Mother deathly ill,
father neglecting the farm, to care for his mate.
The bank foreclosing too soon,
not accepting payments deemed late.

I consoled the young boy
the best that I could,
Reminding him how close to the genie,
he and I, now literally stood.

Suddenly the genie announced
that the lamp had unexpectedly run low.
It seems there was but one single wish,
left for him to bestow.

I knew the young boy’s, a much nobler deed,
I took a step back, and gave up the lead.
I turned from former position, there at the head of the line,
Considering my odds,
and what I might accomplish with limited time.

I heard the young boy shouting,
claiming he had wonderful news.
It seems that when wishes are for others,
genies granted them in two’s.

He invited me to his home,
leading me by my arm,
Explaining his family’s desire,
to know details regarding the farm.

When we arrived I expected to see
a castle in place of a shack.
But it appears the young boy
had only wished for what little he lacked.
His family was charming,
in a pleasant, peasant kind of a way.
Not only did I receive years, but friendships that day.

Placing the needs of others, ahead of own selfish aims,
Not only pays rich dividends in life,
but also in wishing games.


writerwoman said...

I liked how this poem told a story. It was very rich and detailed.

Dan said...

Thanks, Sarah. Many of my poems tell a story, as you can see. I'm going to attempt in the near future to get away from the story within a poem. Just for a change of pace.