By Gib McRae Cairn
Date: 15 March 1998

HOW SHE CAME TO YOU . . . .

Eager, trembling, free, ready to please you, Sir.
No trophy, no deceptions, or magic,
Nothing conjured or mysterious,
No wonder you ceased to want her.

Offering no ties to bind,
And leaving all exits open,
She offered no challenge for you.
No different refuge, how could she be so blind?

Too bad it took all these years,
And many empty lovers,
To learn your real attitude,
And understand what shaped your fears.

How foolish of her to finally
Leave you for another,
To seek out love,
Someone to hold and treat her kindly.

So when you sit beside the fire,
And to your friends recount the tale,
Of how you lost your only love,
Make sure, sorry, Sir, you don't become a liar.

Remember the things she needed,
The love she tried to show to you,
And how she begged you openly,
And her needs you never filled or heeded.

You will always be the one left behind,
At least, you will see it that way.
You will never know real love,
Or, how to live faithfully with its kind.

Once again, you asked me, Sir,
Now go and enjoy your day.
Will you be joined for dinner?
Or, are you still grieving for her . . . .