This is a wicked tribute to this week's Poetry Challenge, created by my CW partner-in-crime, the beautiful Heather Wickham, about staying even when you know the situation isn't right. Because mine didn't comply with the "Tanka" form that this week's Challenge requires, (so enthusiastic was I to write something, I seemed to have missed the basics...Duh...) but I decided to post it, nonetheless. You still have to love me anyway.
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I never should have let him walk
Life’s garden path with me.
I’d have far less remorse, I know,
And tortured reverie
His outer flow’r was vibrant, full!
Whoever would have known?
That planted deep within those roots
A viciousness he’d sown.
Subtle-y, at first, it rose
“Is that the best from you?”
But then the poisoned cankers formed:
“You worthless little shrew.”
And so it went, day after day,
A desolate existence,
Festering in fetid soil,
A dry-rot of persistence.
I thought of ways to nip that bud
And wondered what I’d need
To end more germinations
Of that infected seed.
I wanted something subtle-
Yet-effective for the trick.
Research proved invaluable.
Results from it came quick.
It looked like an azalea plant*
Had left his brain stem numb,
But we both knew that it was me.
Three cheers for my green thumb!
It’s easier to love him now.
My heart again feels full.
I bring him food and water,
My private veg’table.
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*it turns out that azalea plants ingested in large quantities can cause brain paralysis and cardiac arrhythmia!
4/23/2026
The Words That Got to Me
Well let's just say that wicked does not really do justice to the tale you recount here. It is a wee bit understated. Mind you it could be said that he had it coming, given his despicable behaviour in verses three and four. I love "dry rot of persistence" as a phrase. And I like the poetic justice of subtle being returned to as the way to describe the deed's modus operandi. And what a wickedly apt closing verse.