Daily missive for Tuesday the 5th of August.~by Peter Forster

 

 

Daily missive for Tuesday the 5th of August.

Even the scarecrow turned about.
It was the most he could do,
And the wind helped out.
Sending him around,
Spinning awkwardly,
On his broom stick spine.

Arms flailing wildly,
Barely keeping his balance,
As the dry straw makings of him
Were torn away,
Emptying a ragged shirt sleeve,
Removing muscle tone
And leaving him with barely enough
Stuffing to point the way.

But it was a kind of sign
To keep going,
And I rambled on.
The tearful cries
Still echoing in my ears.
A child’s balloon
Snatched away
By a spiteful zephyr.
Sweeping it high,
Its trailing ribbon
Caught up in her precious
Pinkie.

A comforting toy,
A friend from birth,
Hung by a thread
Tossed against treetops,
Dashed over a dirty thatch,
Gathering pace.
Even now,
I could still see
That poor child’s face.
Bereft, all hope gone
I could never let her down.

I would follow
Until the edge of the world
And beyond.
Wheezing heavily,
Legs weary from the climb
I breasted a hill,
And there I saw
An old windmill.
With sails so slowly turning,
A balloon and pinkie,
Caught fast,
Held to the mast,
Just waiting there for me
To reclaim and return them,
Safely,
To the cradle
Of my baby’s arms.