Karma

He looked down over the valley,

Over the verdant green and trees,

And suddenly felt so humbled

That he sighed, and fell to his knees,

He’d only been out a single day

With the world before him spread,

So still he could hear those prison gates

As they’d clanged behind, in his head.

 

He’d finished his twenty seven years

He’d paid society’s due,

Locked in a cell of eight by ten

For the things that he’d had to do,

He’d shown no mercy to Annabel,

No more to the Widow Peak,

He’d drowned them, just as he meant to do

When they’d met, in less than a week.

 

He thrilled at the thought of their staring eyes

As he held them down in the bath,

Watching their lives leach out of them,

Just as he’d done with Kath,

There’d been so many, he’d not confessed

But been convicted for two,

The other ten would have got him life

Without reprieve, if they knew.

 

He went to live in the valley

Rented a cottage under the trees,

Owned by a man called Anderson

Who’d visited him for years,

He’d said he knew of a valley where

He could start his life again,

He’d said, ‘Now here is your second chance,

Back in the world of men!’

 

He wandered round in the cottage

Took in the bathroom at a glance,

Took in the nice deep marble tub

With a smirk and a rub of his hands,

The village was just a walk away

But he’d give it a day or two,

Then check for a widow or single girl

At the store, as he wandered through.

 

He spent the night reminiscing

Thinking of all those staring eyes,

Of Kristen Poole, that silly young fool

That he’d fed with outrageous lies,

Her mouth had flapped like a goldfish

As she fought in a bleak despair,

But nearly a foot of water lay

Between her face and the air.

 

And who was that girl, that Marigold,

That he’d met in the Shop ‘n Save?

He’d thought that her name was Sanderson,

She didn’t know how to behave,

She’d said her brother looked out for her

Would interfere with her fun,

But once in a bath of water,

It would only be fun for one.

 

He lay and stared at the ceiling as

He felt quite suddenly cold,

The name of his mentor Anderson

Came creeping back to his soul,

He heard the rushing of water

Off in the distance, up on the heights,

And made his way to the village

Lying in darkness, deep in the night,

 

The cottages all were empty

So was the chapel, totally bare,

The door of the shop was open

Nothing  but garbage left in there,

He turned and ran up the village street

But the thunder was hard at his heels,

When a wall of water, ten feet high

Rushed over the verdant fields.

 

They’d opened the sluices at the dam

To flood the Valley at night,

To turn it into a reservoir

For a city that lay nearby,

The villagers had been gone for a month

But they stood and they watched the tide,

Flooding their tiny cottages

While Anderson laughed, and cried!

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Tate Morgan]

Well Dave the story here is told so well and flows so beautifully it is only justice knocks at his door.In the states he would have been dealt the old time religion a few years earlier.I love the way this was told i didnt suspect the end till it happened bravo

[Ed Fagan]

How very fitting. Nice twist.

[ms. barrie]

amazing write

[Sanjeeta Sharma Pokhar..]

Wonderful

[Valentine]

I reviewed this yesterday..the payback can be more terrible than the deed..musn't mess with a beloved sister..love Kathie

[Talal Hussain]

Very well composed...great work sir :-)

[Marie]

It took me a few seonds to hook it all up..."Sanderson" (Anderson)...brother looking out for her...Karma...

[David Scott]

Like reading a book in just a few lines. This poem like so many others you write is like a computer file that has been "zipped" and sent out condensed only to open up to gigabytes of information and knowledge. Reminded me a bit of the movie "Oh Brother Where Art Thou?". Enjoyed your poetry David.

[MOON]

Can't escape that karma. Poignant scary write.