Jam Jar

On long summer days
we had a jam jar on the wall.
Holes in the lid,
punctured with a screwdriver,
releasing a strawberry scent.
Half filled with water,
the wasps could never resist.
I would watch them squeeze
through puckered holes
to feast on jam
then drown.
As a sensitive soul,
when eyes were diverted,
I would give rescue
upon a lolly pop stick.

Now I am all flapping arms
and the way in above
offers me no escape.
The strawberry is rotten
and the world outside
is distant beyond the glass.
Soon somebody will unscrew the cap
and an innocent heart
will offer a sweet release.

This evokes so many different emotions...the idea of trapping something in and locking yourself out, both handled so pensively well Jerry.

nice comparison between a childhood memory and how you feel now.

Not bad buddy, full of pain and beauty. Does just what a poem should and it's short and sweet.

A nice analogy which harks back to a previous conversation we had in response to 'Jasper'. I think I may have mentioned something about Karma then... :D

H

A great piece Jerry - wonderful imagery, especially of how something considered sweet in childhood can acquire a much more sinister undertone when viewed through more cynical eyes.

I wonder if our good deeds do come back to offer us release?

H