Friday, July 28, 2006 8:53 PM
glass bottle,
lost and alone,
lying unwanted on the sand.
battered by waves,
attacked by crabs.
never a moment of peace.
between high tide and low,
it cried out it's fear,
but no one really heard.
yet it was not always so.
it had been sent on a mission,
a noble one at that.
never mind that many had
been sent this perilous way.
big or small,
round or square,
nothing really mattered.
the crux of this whole play,
was the curl of
blue-tinged, lavendar scented, slightly transparent, flower-embossed, 5-by-2 centimetre paper
fitted snugly into the glass bottle.
nothing really mattered.
it didn't.
the one who had sent it
was not bothered
by the fate of her glass bottles.
shattered or cracked
or simply left alone,
who cared?
as long as her curl of
blue-tinged, lavendar scented, slightly transparent, flower-embossed, 5-by2 cemtimetre paper
and the words it carried
were safe,
that was all that mattered.
but the glass bottle was never to know.