Note in a bottle

If I was a note in a bottle

Drifting, lost at sea

You would be the fisherman 

That fished me out of the depth 

And brought me safely to shore

You spent hours trying to uncork

The small glass bottle that holds me

Curiosity and excitement gleaming in your eyes

Gently you took me out freed me from my prison

Spread over a wooden table, carefully scrutinised 

You stood pondering at the dark ink staining my yellowing parchment

Your forehead scrunched, brows furrowed 

face lined with incomprehension 

As you desperately try to decipher the frantic scrawling you don't recognise

Your curiosity ebbed 

Failing that you angrily tossed me in a drawer carelessly left open

And I wish I had remained lost at sea

For what good is a note found but not understood 

A love found but gone to waste