Days of our lives

I don’t know why

I found myself

In utter turmoil

Mild shock

Nay, hilarity

At the minor

Inconvenience and

Sheer inevitability

Of a favourite

Royal blue hair tie

Accidentally dropped

By our darling child

Into the toilet

(Not a fresh bowl

I hasten to add)

My better half

To my horror

Actually

Had to physically

Restrain me

From the automatic

Reflex of reaching in

To fish it out

Just to stop the

Wailing and

Gnashing of yet

Unbrushed teeth

Opting instead

For a hasty flush

As both object lesson

And disincentive

For the child

And our plumbing

Hoping to avoid

An encore of items

Carelessly tossed

Sewerward.

What is this world

Coming to?

It seems I cannot even

Take a two-minute shower

Without some fresh

Crisis brewing.

But what is this?

Ah, yes.  Now I see.

Tuesday – my old

But persistent

Nemesis.

We meet once again.

The Half Life of Romantium

Take a fragile shell of base metal
Iron, or lead will do nicely for a first attempt
Then find somewhere to keep it
While the experiment progresses
Prop it against a shady frame
Darkened doorways work well, then
Seal it with the finest salt water
Washing repeatedly until all planes
Have been carefully soaked in brine
Set it aside to drip-dry on a doormat
Paying careful attention to placement
More progress is made in the hours
When darkness covers the sun’s curve
Applying topical heat at intervals
Until the surface shines with salt specks
Carve your initials into this skin
Making the cuts deep, clean, even
You should still be able to see them
A clear inscription In fifty years or so,
Once things have cooled to room temperature

The Parent Trap

I listen to your questions, child
And try to tell no lies
For who could bear the fall to Earth
Reflected in those eyes?
Though often you may wonder
At every slightest thing
I strive to keep my temper –
Mind to fill and heart to win.
I do but ask one favour –
A little one I crave:
Just while I am explaining,
That you sit still, and behave.
I don’t begrudge you answers
It’s not to make you blue,
But mummy needs to concentrate
So what she says is true.

Where a battle is fought in love, there can be no victor

And she wept long and hard
For the love she had lost.
She felt keenly her heart
Must feel keenly the loss.
But she never did pause
To ponder her fate
For ’tis better to mourn
Than consider the wait.
On the other hand, he,
Not accustomed to pain
Chose to keep his good cheer
And think on it again.
Thus they grew far apart
In their aiming to keep
Their love like a river
Flowing slowly and deep.
Now her eyes are quite dry
As he looks on, bemused.
Little time has gone by
And yet he is refused?
For the clock has run down
Wanting winding, you see.
And where once was love
Lies a strange fantasy.

An apology

I caught your eye and looked away.
Your look a thousand words did say.
I dared not gaze upon your face,
Fearing reflected, my disgrace.
Apologies gushed forth from me
But each bounced off your misery
And I to greater depths did sink
In that one tear I saw you blink.
So did I turn away from you
Unfit to bend to kiss your shoe.
For love, I left. For love, your pain.
Some balance, then, in this refrain.
And I no comfort can derive:
I hurt ‘the one’, my soul, my life.
But know that when things fell apart;
T’was not just you, with broken heart.