The Raspberry Moon

I gently tied a rope around
the cactus I was holding hostage
uncertain of my next step I took out a pen
and wrote a ransom note to the Raspberry Moon:

dear Sir,
please deposit money, power or fame 
into the blue mailbox at the end of the road
if you ever want to see your cactus again.

his reply came swiftly:
dear girl, we are all quite distraught.
we’ve given it a lot of thought,
and our concern, my precious flower,
deals not with money, fame or power.
your mission it is doomed to fail
for bleeding fingers tell a tale.
instead of those you did request,
we thought for all it would be best
to deposit in this box of blue
something of much more use to you.
we have sent you Cupid Seeds,
because, my child, your heart still bleeds.