with blade held high he wept to spy
the wound that he’d inflicted
on flesh so bare, just lying there
with resolve awry, he wiped one eye
and laid the knife aside
in utter gloom he fled the room
and hung his head and cried
in vain he prayed to get some aid
for what he had to do
‘It is my task’, he said at last
and raised the dirk anew
he cut and thrust as he knew he must
until the deed was done
then stood aside to view with pride
a plate of diced onion
from Intriguing Yarns Odes Poems (Anthology)
An anthology of creative works by senior citizens garnered through the Canberra Tradesmen’s Union Club of the ACT in the International Year of Older Persons (1999).
The mind is led astray in the opening stanzas. It is not till the closing line that there is the clarification. There is wonderful rhyme and half rhyme in each line. A great choice in words – especially awry it fits the occasion perfectly … as so many in the kitchen that attack onions will readily appreciate!
dirk = long, dagger, formerly worn by Scottish Highlanders
awry = crooked; deviant or unsound
... chop - cry ... this always tends to happen at some stage when cutting onions ... what is the best approach?