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Haiku from Gib

THE MASTER:
visitation memory

garden of sweet blooms
braces against winter chill
master weeds no more

honored box on table
a visitation memory
a soul rests in peace

Gib McRae Cairn


HOW SHE CAME TO YOU


Words From Your Servant . . . .

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, Sir!

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

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

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

So when you, Sir, 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.

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

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

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

Gib McRae Cairn March 15, 1998