N E V E R  D I d  I  T h I n k T H A T

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N E V E R  D I d  I  T h I n k T H A T

A stitch in time saves nine,

they say…

and fresh water turns to wine

by sheer belief …

One unguarded word lets lose

an avalanche of retribution

but no one takes time to think

before they speak.

Instead we savour the sweetness

of revenge, a dish best eaten cold

and only sad regret tastes bitter –

like greenish mould and sour grapes.

My discarded apple core could

be someone’s compost if I’d care,

instead it adds to the growing mount of

litter.

Maybe we learn a lesson here from all

those young but dying children

about what is important:

kindness & ice-cream.

 

By Barbara Boyle

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