A Peculiar Pickle
Under a sullen light.
the small bed was abandoned
Blood trailed like red confetti
sprinkled over carpet,
on bear and Barbie dolls alike,
from night table to louvred closet.
Door slightly ajar;
within a darkness foreboding
like a shadow figure in a horror movie
where slit throats and lemon-drop jammy's
go hand in hand.
I heard the whimper as a pool of red
spread into the bedroom like death
then the voice, afraid, whispered
"Oh no Bartholemew, I spilt the beetroot
mummy will be very cross with you"
Under a sullen light.
the small bed was abandoned
Blood trailed like red confetti
sprinkled over carpet,
on bear and Barbie dolls alike,
from night table to louvred closet.
Door slightly ajar;
within a darkness foreboding
like a shadow figure in a horror movie
where slit throats and lemon-drop jammy's
go hand in hand.
I heard the whimper as a pool of red
spread into the bedroom like death
then the voice, afraid, whispered
"Oh no Bartholemew, I spilt the beetroot
mummy will be very cross with you"