Happy birthday

I creased the edges of the wrapping paper, making the edges sharp and straight. The sellotape was uniformly cut to length, the ribbon perfectly curled. She'd been distant all week, probably to do with getting older, but this gift was going to snap her out of her blues. I hid it behind me as I went downstairs, then held it out with a beaming smile.
She glared. "What is this?"
"Um, your birthday present? Happy birthday!"
She reached out, taking it with a casual disregard.
"What's wrong? I think you'll like it." I smiled encouragingly.
"My birthday was last week."


I saw two chairs, a matching set,
a pair, just like we used to be.
They sat alone, apart, offset,
a dark and stark analogy.

They called to me, those empty seats,
that spoke of loss and past defeats,
and even as light left the day,
I found I could not walk away.
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As the days grow short

As the days grow short, the colours turn bold,
deciduous trees discard green for gold,
russet and amber, an autumn array.
Seasonal palette of hues on display,
a feast for artistic eyes to behold.

The clear skies of day have been placed on hold,
evening's glamour begins to unfold,
a last hurrah as the sun slips away,
as the days grow short.

The temperature plummets, the air grows cold,
but nature still paints, she is uncontrolled.
Repetition might seem a bit cliche,
but we see her glory day after day.
And beauty like this can never grow old,
as the days grow short.
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Ignorance is not an excuse

I saw dark smudges under eyes,
never questioned obvious lies.
Didn't ask. Didn't tell. Abuse -
ignorance is not an excuse.

He withdrew, disappearing and
fading, like already his hand
had tied rough rope into a noose.
Ignorance is not an excuse.

Clear symptoms in his eyes, habits,
moods, attitude, and behaviour…
Just a phase, not symptoms of use.
Ignorance is not an excuse.
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Trial and error

Prompt: 'Good judgement comes from experience, and a lot of that comes from bad judgement.' - Will Rogers

Even as he throws my mistakes
back in my face, with brutal
and unerring accuracy,
I recognise that he is repeating
a mistake I have made before.
Stumbling through trial and error
(leaning heavily towards error),
until we emerge wiser but by no means
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She painstakingly applies layers,
painting on a disguise she believes
society craves,
and is gullible enough to fall for,
she never once considers
that confidence
comes from within.
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Sweet despair

I collected syrupy tears
from each wounded tree,
rejoicing in the sweetness
that danced on my tongue
and licking the stickiness
from my lips.
I never once spared a
thought to wonder why
Mother Nature was crying.
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