Delivery, by Britta Benson

Today’s poem is a direct response to Tales from the Mind of Christian, Word of the Day Challenge. The word, unsurprisingly, and you may have guessed: Delivery. Here goes. (


The postman chaps my door.

Asks, if I can take in a parcel

for my neighbour in 63.

A red box.

Is it a Valentine?

Small, light,

still too heavy for a kiss.

It thumps. Drums.

Not methodical enough for a bomb.

This is flawed, wonky, off beat for a start.

A heart?

Should you?

Would you?

Send your inners by Royal Mail,

sealed and wrapped, honey trapped,

have your core dumped in the hands

of incompetent stangers living next door?

If ever I must,

I shall deliver mine in person,

on a cold silver plate,

knife in hand. Enjoy!

No mess up, no mix up,

straight from A to B.

In the meantime,

where will I put this spare?

I’ve become the custodian of love

and it weighs a tonne.

2 thoughts on “Delivery, by Britta Benson

    1. Well, Terveen, I lost my heart twenty one years ago, and it’s been thriving ever since. I just loved the prompt… Simply can’t resist a good prompt. Before I know it, the gloves are off, I’ve got my pen drawn and I’m ready to attack the first innocent page I can grab hold of. You know what it’s like! Mayhem. But fun.

      Liked by 1 person

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