Her beauty was only as deep as her skin
but that it could be seen, in the eyes
of those that beheld her, was of comfort.
Time had been unkind, refusing to wait for
her man. It should have known that
hell hath no fury like a woman scorned
as she served up her best dish of revenge,
She suffered terrible burns after fiddling with the fire,
making her flee the kitchen.
The heat was intolerable.
So, licking her wounds, she went for a change as she needed
a rest; sat at her window seat, admiring
the neighbour’s lawn, through the fence.
Her dog lay sleeping, which she let lie
on her own grass, knowing that it
had past the age of learning anything new.
But that didn’t matter because she was
content in the knowledge that every single
one of them has their day. God only knows
when. But knowing that, allowed her to sleep
like a baby. And it was in that sleep that
her dream came. From the mouth of
that babe that she copied, she was told about the
value of the little robin redbreast,
cuddled up in her hand. He was of gold
to his two silver brothers, chirping from
the rhododendron, outside the window.
She smiled. Stared at the little bird, allowing
him to look through her own windows and
see her soul.
He also saw her heart and made it his home but she
didn’t mind because she knew it was better to
Just as long as it ends well, she thought…
Then all will be well.
So she lived. And let live.