The un-romantic one.

The un-romantic one.

There is no romance

Hidden

In fingers of half light

As shadows seek

To suffocate

The last rainbow

And warm rain falls

With drops

The size of golf balls

Bouncing over wooden decking

Like a Barnes Wallis

Dam buster.

Thunder rolls,

A frightened child waits

At the school gates,

Soaked to the skin

In summer clothes.

Mother comes late

From a lunch date

With the girls

That was going just fine,

Until knives came out,

Back stabbers, in stilettoes

And they all began to shout.

It happens every time

After the second glass of

Cheap white wine

Not even a Chardonnay.

When was jealousy

Ever a remedy for boredom?

There is no romance

When sadness waits

At the front door

And a blackened dog

Sits with its tail

Between its legs

Waiting to be fed.

No matter what you do

It has its teeth in you

And whatever

Little helper is tried

Its appetite

Is never satisfied.

There is no romance

In a meal for one,

Low-fat options

From a microwave

Chased down

With the water of life

In a tumbler full of ice cubes.

A food supplement

To numb the soul

Until the spirit is

Frozen out

And there is nothing

Left to hold it

But a seed of doubt.

There is no romance

In becoming

A good looking corpse.

Old friends

Outstretched arms

And affection

That can bring a lump

To the throat

When it comes as a surprise

Take nothing for granted

friendship

Is a gift when given freely

And should never be abused