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A Little Help


Mrs P

Enterprise on routine mission,
Starfleet orders well-defined,
Had to leave that fateful planet,
Had to leave her, far behind.
Kirk in centre chair, as always,
Eyes on view screen, stars ahead,
Heart still in the 1930s,
Words unspoken, tears unshed.
Crew concerned at Kirk's behaviour;
So withdrawn, preoccupied.
Hadn't talked of recent sorrow,
Hadn't faced it, hadn't tried.
Hadn't slept in peace for ages,
Not since Edith Keeler died.

Headed to his quarters, weary,
Heard a distant loud commotion.
Knew the cause before he reached it;
Logic fighting raw emotion.
Cries of "Pointy eared hobgoblin!"
Comments on "Witch doctor care."
Cool response to heated insult,
Eyebrow raised at angry glare.
Got involved, despite intentions,
In this Vulcan-Doctor fight,
Knew if he ignored his comrades,
Argument could last all night.
If it might annoy the Vulcan,
Bones could argue black was white.

Contemplated feuding couple,
Thought of all their hard fought battles.
Green-skinned pitch-forked demon fighting
Quack with leeches, beads and rattles.
Studied them with deep affection,
Could not tell which side was winning.
Could not stop his own reaction,
Glimmer of a smile beginning.
Argument then ceased abruptly,
Both sides knew their fight was done.
Ice blue eyes met Vulcan's briefly,
Knew why dispute had begun.
Both in rare complete agreement,
Jim was smiling - both had won.


Copyright Mrs P