Spotted Jug
I see my present from a friend of a colourful spotted jug
as a symbol of summer, adorned with a flower of love
its pretty hues sit comfortably in my living room
complementing Buddha’s brown and muddy hues
the wintry weather is threatening, although beautiful to see
I’m sure it’s fun for Polar Bears, but certainly not for me
oh well, I must find some things to do as I’m snowed in my little abode
maybe I will clean the house, or stitch some old clothes
I could, I suppose, write a love letter to a lover long gone by
he may not receive it, as I know he’s flying high
he’s an Airman with many flying hours to his celestial name
I could have sworn I saw his spirit as I looked up to the clouds
then remember dearly, how he was always too proud
forgiveness is a rare and selfless thing to do
sadly, he once retorted; ‘I will never forgive you’
my spotted jug is my memory of an old friend gone by
whenever I fill it with water, and a pretty flower, then begin to sigh
I will cherish my spotted jug and keep it safe and clean
one day I will return it to you, if only in my dreams…