Blue Song at Night
He was mixing the drinks as she arrived.
Her favorite chocolate martini
but this time with a little extra something he contrived.
“Oh, my favorite, chocolate martini. Thanks.”
And he brought her the loaded concoction.
She set it down on the table
and never suspected it to be full of toxins.
“Here, I attached notes to the music sheets.
I think we’ve got a hit or two there.”
She sat down before her laced martini.
Suddenly, his doorbell rang.
“Oh. I’ll get that. I know who it is”.
She said, as she took the first taste
before setting it down once more.
She ran to the foyer in haste
and answered the door
knowing it would be Jack.
She had called him in Toronto
and he said he’d come back.
“Jack!”
She screamed as she threw herself into his arms
and began to retch, gasping for air, and falling limp
setting off Jack's alarms.
“What the hell, Babe, Are you OK?”
He quickly realized she was not.
He grabbed his phone and called 9-1-1.
“What the hell is going on here?”
He asked his songwriting friend.
“I don’t know.” was all he could lend.
What has she been drinking? asked Jack.
“Not much.”
As Jack picked up the drink to smell of it
sirens wailed in the night air.
His friend bolted through the front doorway.
EMT’s arrived and opened her airway
then transported her to the hospital.
She would be all right.
Police soon arrived and questioned Jack.
The one who attempted the drugging
was caught later that night.
-
Author:
MendedFences27 (
Offline) - Published: August 7th, 2024 09:36
- Comment from author about the poem: Fourth and final.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 16
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15
Offline)
Comments7
Quite the story, I just don't think I could stomach a chocolate martini
Thanks SB. Me neither. Mine have always been slightly dry.
Your dramatic imagery brings the reader to the forefront of this. A very serious subject, I love your title. It's an open book. 🌹
Thank you, Teddy. It was a story-poem, and imagery is of utmost importance.
There are some real nasty folk about aren't there Phil .. a torrid tale told tantalizingly well ..
Thank you, Neville. Nasty folk exist in great numbers. The story required one, so I created him. Jealous lovers always make great villains.
Nicely done, a touch of Agatha Christie there, loved it.
Thank you, Bella. Any mention of Agatha knocks me over. Thank you.
Age old tradition - do it in chapters, Phil.
I always find it satisfying to have achieved the end. Fined up nicely. It is open enders I'm not fond of.
Thank you, DD. It started as a singular poem many years ago, which I left open ended with intentions to finish soon. However, life got in the way and then it was forgotten. I happened to reread it recently and the decided to complete the tale.
Surprising what can be found with a little excavation... I've got to do some I think. Thanks.
This is quite a tale that can be transformed into a micro-story. I liked the rhyme and the story it tells. Great job!
Thank you, rrodriquez. Nice to hear from you again. Always respect your views on my poetry.
You're welcome, my friend!
Caught at last Phil. Well done.
Andy
Thank you, Andy. Crime does not pay.
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