I thought I would drop in a poem this week, I wrote it a couple of years ago and it’s about a murder I attended in 1982 over the Xmas period, on my birthday of all things. I wrote about it in my Policeman’s Lot series and it’s fully explained there, the plot is simple. She had no love from her husband and found it with someone else. Husband decided killing her was the only way out, obviously divorce seemed out of the question. While she sat at the kitchen table having her tea, a meat pie and a cuppa he shot her in the heart and face. She had several small dogs which when I arrived on the scene were terrified. I also assisted at the autopsy. So here it is,
LOVE NO MORE.
Siren’s wailing, Xmas lights,
scared dog’s howling, domestic fights.
Tearful confessions, No love here.
Shotgun’s blast! Goodbye, My Dear,
A fatal ending. He took your heart.
No love from me, My heart’s unbending.
Shot to head. It’s time to part. The bitch is dead.
A coward-from the start.
I see her there, my heart’s racing.
Gore, blood running, tracing,
lines of red on face, defacing
lumps of lead-a life have taken.
Aim was true, a shotgun-no mistaking.
Frightened dogs, pies on floor,
Gun straight out, go through door,
For her-Love no more.
Laying open a heart destroyed,
count the pellets that did void.
Weigh the heart,
That loves-no more.
Face demolished-death’s head grin,
Tongue so pink-it lays on skin.
Pellet shining, in light’s harsh glare,
Like Oyster’s flesh, a pearl lays there.
Cut and carve, weigh it all,
Death is here, He casts his pall.
There’s none for her in ground so cold,
Lying there-she grows not old.
Love did fail on that hot night,
A shotgun’s blast, can’t make it right.
Laurie Smith© 2010