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Bathsheba
Poems
Oct 2010
Iridescent Eyes
Even in death his eyes sparkle iridescently.
I want to preserve his beautiful eyes.
I need to preserve his omniscient eyes.
Can you do that?
Who would I ask such a thing?
Would they think me mad?
Insane?
Who then?
The Doctor?
The Undertaker?
The Police?
I really don’t know?
They often say that the eyes are the window to the soul.
Well … you see … if they take his eyes, then how will he, be able to see into my soul.
My soul.
How?
He will be lonely.
So lonely.
I cannot let him be lonely.
Can I?
It’s so very cold in here.
I’ll just pop the fire on for a wee while.
Warm us both up.
Well be like toast, all cosy, all snug.
“Two peas in pod” that’s what he used to say.
He always made me smile.
Always.
And now …what?
He never bought me flowers.
Never.
Not once in 45 years.
Said he didn’t need to prove his love with gifts.
I loved him even more for that.
I was special.
I was his girl.
Tell you what …
I’ll put the kettle on; a nice hot brew warms even the coldest of hearts.
Tetley.
His favourite.
“Would you like some cheese on toast, dear?”
“No, well ok, maybe a bit later then”
I must remember to put the bins out tonight.
I must remember to put the bins out tonight.
And cancel the milk.
Cancel the milk.
Must have everything in its rightful place.
Before I make the call.
The call …
**God give me strength.
Written by
Bathsheba
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