The hair-pin

The hair-pin was lost in the hay-stack -
only a magnet will bring it back.

The gold dust was sprinkled along the dirt track -
falling from a hole in the sack.

Now the trail from the beauty-salon to the farm is marked forever -
but only to be discovered by the clever.

Many months later the farmer is clearing the barn.
Moving the bales to another part of the farm.

And what does he alight on but the hair-pin itself,
which drops from a bundle with steely stealth.

A flash of metallic catches the farmer's eye.
And he picks up the pin from the ground nearby.

My, my, he wonders, how did this happen to end up in his farm?
His mind races through many a posssible yarn.

Was it a society lady who fell to disrepute with a stable hand,
or a bewigged gentleman who took a fancy to a woman of the land?

I'll leave the answer to your own imagination.
Sometimes enigmas can inspire fascination

and leave you inventing your own storyline
to fill in this sketch of mine.

Inspired by watching a production of Under Milk Wood by Dylan Thomas at the ADC theatre.