Saturday, 15 May 2010


The milkman, early morning
Left the bottles at the door
The postman bright and breezy 
With that plop upon the floor
The curtains never fluttered
But stayed close, shut together
And noone knew the lady
Had chose to sleep forever
Much later as the binman passed
Ignored the bin not by the gate
And work phoned every hour
She wasn't usually  this late
At dusk the cat out on patrol
Returned home, pushing through the flap
Found his mistress sleeping still
Sat purring on her rigid lap
Next day the milkman on his round
Finding the past days milk still there
Raised the alarm and stood close by
With neighbours coming out to stare
The empty bottle, pills askew
That vacant look upon her face
And now noone would ever know 
Just why she couldn't stand the pace
That photo held tight in her hand
A romance spent, a Summers end
What a loss, a waste of life
A broken heart she couldn't mend

No comments:

Post a Comment