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Poem

 the perfect winter day
the house is warm, the fireplace a blaze
dinner simmering on the stove
a meal that will warm to the bone
my homemade Irish stew is perfect
for cold winter days and poisoning
you never finished the first bowl
that's when it hit you hard
my combines, the realization
that I disguised your demise
in a bowl of Irish stew
in the first stages you were surprised
not understanding what this is about
why I would kill you
I sat calmly watching you suffer
it is only fair at this point
waiting for the man I knew
you began to demand that I help you
to stop it, to fix it, to take it all away
and then the monster entered
reaching, sweeping and grabbing for me
you were getting slow and sloppy
I was prepared for this moment
you are done dealing out pain
we are down to seconds
you were doubled over in anguish
tears real tears to seal the deal
and now you are dead  
I like you better this way
back to the perfect winter day
there is always such a mess
with home cooking  
 


Terry D’Arcy-Ryan

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