(A true story)

She opened the gate and walked up the path
with a basket of wares on her arm,
alone and uneasy I answered the door
and was met with a smile – to disarm.

Though striking was she with her raven, black hair
I sensed as I looked in her eyes
that menace and trouble were not far away,
to cross her would be most unwise.

“Buy some silk flowers!” she demanded
“In aid of my brother who`s blind.”
“The colours he chose and he made them himself,
no prettier things will you find!”

I was young and I hadn`t much money,
so I stood, resolute. and declined.
“My brother, my brother,” she shouted
“Remember, my brother is blind!”

Though filled with alarm I still questioned,
“How, if your brother can`t see,
did he choose all the colours to make them,
so tell me, how this came to be?”

She flew in a rage and she ranted,
but still I resisted, no deal,
then uttering further invective
she spat as she turned on her heel