NaPM April 17 2014

[cidermaid]

Makes Jack a dull boy

A Blackbird taps for worms in the evening heat,
the garden colours fold quiet as a monastery,
shadows slowly take the grass to a darker green,
the wrought iron seat with its tied on cushion sits empty,
no red tint to wine glass or glug of poured pots of tea,
welcome home hugs and kitchen kisses are missed.

Silence saps exchanges of the day, bottled and preserved,
without decay they build frustration buzzing above the lavender,
waiting for moments that drift away, I finish the last slide
to the latest in a long line of urgently needed presentations.
It’s dark by the time I get home and the house is ready for bed
the dog does her best to say hello but she just wants to play.

Keith just wanted to say how much i enjoyed this one, in particular the first stanza and the gentle aspect of the regrets. You really hooked me in with the second line - peachy