The Rose doesn’t know how it came to this

It lies discarded, glowering in quiet umbrage

It came to lend its flush to warm cheeks

Not to bear witness to such outrage


The Wine bristles begrudgingly, wondering how this came to pass

Showering the carpet in sullen drips; rudely evicted from its fancy glass

It was invited to dinner to quell inhibitions and stoke gay abandon,

A task that now lies so completely undone


The Music still murmurs its soft strains,

Undaunted by this ugly turn of play,

That has left it without hearts to fill

Or Lovers to softly sway


The Candle flickers and fumes nervously

Unsettled by the rash goings-on,

Wondering when the romance that basked in its soft glow

Made a hasty exit, taking peace in its tow


The expensive China litters the carpeted floor,

Broken and seeking redress,

Scattered in as many pieces,

As the Love it sought to impress


The Knife shudders in silent reproach

As the gush of blood bathes its blade,

After all, it came to slice an Anniversary cake

Not to be fatally lodged in a Lover’s throat instead.


Return to sender

One thing leads to another and another takes it further.


A toe kicked a pebble

The pebble struck a flock of resting birds

The alarmed birds took flight in a flurry, catching a cat’s eager eye

The cat took off after them, darting across a busy street side

A little boy raced behind the cat, ignoring his mother’s restraining cry

A car swerved to avoid the boy and the driver lost control

Seeing the car hurtling towards her a comely young lady froze in place

An eager lad behind her yanked her out of its path, and perhaps a romance started taking shape

They fell back in a heap, nearly upon an old lady who lived alone

Who, startled, let go of her battered umbrella and a wayward wind claimed it for its own

It flirted with the umbrella and flew it to a building top

Where a broken man stood on the ledge, thinking of letting himself drop

The unlikely visitation of an umbrella in full bloom billowing beside him in mid-air

Cracked him up so much that, for the moment, he let go of his despair

He grabbed his unlikely savior, the runaway brolly that appeared from nowhere

And with a heart now much lighter, he made his way downstairs.

As he stepped outside the building,

He saw a poorly dressed man trip on his open shoe-lace and begin to go sprawling

He stuck out a hand and kept him, and the cake in his hand, from falling

The indigent gent thanked him and held on tighter to his son’s birthday cake

That he’d bought with the last of his daily wage; and bent to re-tie his lace.

When done, he paused to wipe off the shoe’s toe,

With which he’d kicked a pebble not so long ago.


One thing leads to another and another takes it further

And sometimes it returns to sender.