Counting Days

"Imagine a lovely garden, tea for two, and this story . . . " On the first day, she was very dulcet She was always with him watching the sunset Fond of laying her body on his lap Dreaming they’ll kiss while she takes a nap On the second day, she was still smiling Moving across their bed…reaching and waving her soft hand to touch him but she became weak She tried to kiss him as she watched him sleep On the third day, her beauty faded She was always on her couch; ill-hearted Her man patiently waits for her everyday but was never appreciated in any way On the fifth day, he slowly walked away As she watched him go, she wished that he would stay but she could not speak now For she was like a doll who couldn't take a bow It was on the last, she broke her life A little girl screamed when she saw a knife and a red sleeping rose wearing her silky dress Still facing the window and reaching for his caress