‘It’s only for over Christmas,’ said
The son to his father there,
And watched as the old man’s shoulders hunched
As he painfully mounted the stair,
‘It’s just for the festive season while
The house will be full of kin,
We’re going to need your bedroom if
We’re going to fit them in.

‘I’ll pick you up when the New Year dawns,
My promise is set in stone,
On the first or second of January
Expect me to bring you home.’
But the old man merely paused and turned,
The set of his mouth was grim,
‘You don’t need to make me promises,
I know I’m not wanted, Tim.’

And Tim would have said that wasn’t true
But he had to heed his wife,
She’d said it was him or her would leave,
And her words cut like a knife,
‘I’m always the one to wash and clean,
To cook, and pick up his mess,
He has to be gone by Christmas John,
I’ll not put up with less.’

So early the morning of Christmas Eve
The son had packed a case,
And helped his father into the car
To head for the old folks place,
‘It’s lucky your mother’s dead, my son,
You’d tear us both apart,
How do you think your Mum would feel,
I think you’d break her heart.’

And tears had run down the father’s cheek,
And also down the son’s,
Tim said, ‘Look Dad, I am sorry but
There’s nothing to be done.
I’ve said I’m coming to pick you up
So what more can I say?’
‘I thought to be spending my Christmas
With my son, on Christmas Day.’

The car pulled up at the iron gate
And the son had forced a smile,
‘It won’t be long and with Christmas gone
It will just be a little while,’
He carried his case inside for him
And he turned to say goodbye,
When muttering ‘Merry Christmas, Dad,’
The old man answered ‘Why?’

David Lewis Paget

We’d been together so long, it seemed
That nothing could tear us apart,
We lived our lives in a world of dreams
And Barbara lived in my heart,
But frost had covered the window pane
And then it began to snow,
As Barbara turned, with a look of pain
And said, ‘It’s best that you go.’

I didn’t know what she meant at first
As I looked up from my book,
“Go where?’ I questioned, but thought again
As she quelled my heart with a look.
‘I said I want you to leave,’ she cried,
And her face was set in stone,
‘We’ve come to the end of the path,’ she sighed,
‘I want to be left alone.’

Then suddenly all confusion reined
I didn’t know what to say,
Whatever had brought this mood on her,
I wished it would go away.
But she was firm, and she packed my things
And ushered me out the door,
I stood there shivering in the cold
To be back on my own once more.

I found a flat and I camped the night
There was barely a stick or chair,
I’d have to buy all the furniture
To make it a home in there.
But I sat and cried in the empty room
As the question came back, ‘Why?’
I’d loved her so and my heart was torn,
I thought I wanted to die.

I went to her with my questions, but
She slammed the door in my face,
Whatever love she had had for me
Had vanished, without a trace.
It hurt so much that she cut me off
With never so much as a sigh,
I called that all that I wanted was
To tell me the reason, why?

The roses had bloomed so late that year
Were still in the garden bed,
We’d always tended the bush with joy,
We both loved the colour red,
So I snipped one off as I left one day,
And planted it under her door,
To let her know that I loved her still
I didn’t know how to say more.

Her brother called in a week or so,
Said she was in hospital,
She’d gone in just for a minor cure
And thought that he’d better tell.
So I caught the bus and I went on down
With a quaking fear in my heart,
She hadn’t said there was something wrong
Before she tore us apart.

The doctor came in his long white coat,
His brow and his face was grim,
I said, ‘Don’t tell me the news is bad,’
He said, ‘I’m out on a limb.
Your wife just passed from the surgery,
But she pulled, from under her clothes,
And asked if I’d pass this on to you,’
In his hand was a red, red rose.

David Lewis Paget

History repeats itself.

~History

I knew you as a person
who wore daffodils in her hair;
dancing barefoot in the fields.
Always unpredictable,
your aura, like an aurora of Pandora's open box.
Recklessly compassionate in your unrelenting affection.

I remember when they told me
that you had passed away.
I watched as they returned your body to the earth.
They say that you're in heaven now,
but I don't know how this can be true
when every day I still feel you in my heart.

Maybe your daisy chain was a halo
and the fields that you danced on were clouds.
I think I finally understand.
I knew you as a person,
but maybe you weren't.
Maybe you were just an angel
that got lost along the way.

I thought to myself, as I was getting something to eat,
I'm going to need a fork
This thought happened so quickly and subconsciously,
For it is something easy to think, or rather just know
And it happens to everyone over the age of perhaps three-years -old
Who has ever needed a fork

I knew I needed a fork
This was very simple

But, where are all the forks?
Why are there none left in the drawer?
Maybe in the dishwasher.
None there, either?
Are all the forks in this entire house *****?

And I continued looking a little longer.

After these few--but frustrating--minutes passed by,
I had become so focused and determined to find this fork,
That I forgot to remember the very point of finding it

What was I getting to eat, again?

Cereal.

Spoon.

Right.

Here's one.

And this is why my mind is capable of the type of thinking that it really takes
To find inspiration, and not wait for it to come to you

Capture me! Now you have the chance
You've captivated me with a single glance

See my lips drop onto your skin like rain
Collect me like the tears of an undisclosed pain

Pour my essence into a bottle--let me never depart
Quickly hide me from harm within the nooks of your heart

Bring me to your lips when you feel of despair
Spritz me over your skin, let me diffuse through the air

Use me as strong drink, to abandon your troubles
For each sip of love you take, the abundance for you doubles

Your bottle is ever-filled
Ever-filling
No end
So do not use sparingly,
My lover,
My friend

The earth's only remedy
For all you desire
The only liquid melody
A drinkable fire

To quench your tongue's thirst
And always be enough
Yet leave your soul thirsting
For it is never enough