Don't trust him.
His game is to play you; showmanship winning over the room.
Capability and knowledge cunningly imitated with sleight of hand.
Promises, their empty conclusion yet to unfold, and the nod of a mask.

Bluff and deceit form the paint on his mask,
and I see the cracks forming.

"Just five minutes more" is the cry.
Playtime has been interrupted by the familiar "hurry up."
Vocabulary common to every parent:
"You've had ten more already. Time to get out."

Why do they insist? My needs never win the battle.
Why is my fun spoilt with this never ending list of demands?
"Oh, it's not fair" is yelled in anguish and responded to by further rebuke.
The severity of consequence based on their ambiguous countdown is increasing;
a thread of the "Thinking Spot" will no doubt soon follow.

A few grumbles are followed by silent protest,
albeit underpinned with a threat of childish tantrum.
It's time for the family meal and this standoff has but one resolution.
Isolated relaxation time is over.

The timetable of the young child at the door demands no less;
the parent must vacate their ten minute bath.

She had presence
Left my thoughts each day
With what hints she needed
To suggest her return
And make good of it

She had lips,
And oh, what lips
As if what she had to say
Needed the sweetest cushions
To lie on before leaving

When she had opinions
What she thought sparkled
And left me aghast
At the idea that she might change her mind
And lose herself, but she never did

She had a body
I suppose she did
And others stared at it, for
All the good it did them, I suppose
She was carved by men, but
Carved into a woman

She had a god to worship
A purpose well worth her life
And as such so did I
I had a reason in her
The world had a rhythm
The temples had pillars

I had a seed
It grew into a tulip
And I spent much money to give it to her
A brooch bought for our last smiles together
What a time
What a life she had