by Bonny Simon

Created on: May 28, 2010   Last Updated: August 27, 2010

I met an angel in Bluebell wood, wandering deep in thought.

I wanted to say hello but wondered if I ought.

But I stayed and listened and shared my inner self,

For all my deepest feelings had been lying on the shelf.

I ignored the bluebells, that familiar scent in the air.

For I wanted angel, wanted love without a care.

I wanted the best of all there was to have, everything for me.

All my cares attended to, all of it all for me.

But I didn't see the bluebells wilting, crying out for me.

I didn't see Angel dim, her light go grey with worry.

I was growing, draining all they had to give.

Like the ivy, killing oak so that it can live.

Angel fled the wood, tripping over as she went.

And in her path, left the bluebells lying bent.

Bluebell gave a plaintive cry and I turned around,

There she was, in pieces on the ground.

Angel won't go near those woods, they cause her too much pain.

She left a part of her behind, she won't see that again.

Bluebell, when she grows again will have a woody stem.

Thick and strong and twisted, won't be bent again.

In this world there are givers and there are takers.

Those who live their lives and there are the fakers.

They take what they need like Ivy, like they were made to do.

Giver or taker, who is the bigger fool?

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