Favour Poem by Etienne Charilaou

After many a year of being alone
and being frustrated and prone
to repining, ever residing in
a social limbo, oft of my own devising,
a friend of a feather sensing of late
that I may be frustrate,
poured forth his wisdom,
‘It seems that someone out there
must exist to bring thee
a new lease,
a new reason,
a new flavour.'
An end to your despair!
Continuing thus:
‘I don't know if that's true.'
To which I made reply, ' ‘Tis true! '
Would that not do?

So, with a tired soul
my wanderings I resumed
in that blessed abode,
that oft near-paradise,
the humble house garden.

But there is a jarring -
it's that invention of Bell!
Today it is an emissary of hell!

Like Coleridge I have been dealt a blow!
And who should be the foe?
The grandmother's TV is again on the blink!
Thanks to all the outages I think.

Who knows what directions this poem could have taken?
But now this work must needs be forsaken.

Here be the last verse,
if this poem seem terse:

And the meaning of life,
if you want to know how it goes;
it can all be found in a little pretty rose.