‘Something pretty’ she said to me,
her voice serene if a bit pitchy,
as though my gift might be selected
from reserves of barren ugliness,
lest I be reminded that her sensibilities
should be regarded—
rather than my own.
In her defense, I must admit,
I do possess such ill-conceived proclivities,
as wretched though such reminders find me,
as foul they leave my sense of value,
as bracing is her unintended slap.
My now-red psyche wraps itself
in altered garments,
cloaked in virtue of warm breezes and soft subtlety,
passion’s own heart subdued by suggestion,
dunked in nobility’s mild quench-tank,
soothed in oil and balm and reason’s lotion.
And I wait.
Does she know?
Could she possibly ever understand
the conflict I create within
the barriers confining my head from my heart?
Which do I choose?
Can it be done at all?
So I wait.
Bob Church©2/22/07
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3 comments:
So the question is, is a gift from the heart, spontaneous and true, better than "something pretty." Picture me--in one hand balancing a blender (your choice), in the other a diamond ring(something pretty). What, are you crazy? Your poor wife! Get her something pretty!
Ah, but you have underestimated my wife. Her 'hinting' ability is legendary. However, if I'm too dense to pick up on the subtleties she's putting out, she just takes the magic card and buys it herself. So much for romance... but after 31 years, she's learned how to make up for my shortcomings. Ha! (I do try to keep a fair amount of 'pretties' coming her way...)
Actually, the poem is questioning my muse, and the constant dilemma I find myself confronting. I'd like to be able to write the 'Hallmark' brand of verse, but struggle with a brain that tends to confuse the different vagaries of my thought processes. Hence, the questions...
But, I'm sure she'll appreciate you coming to her defense. :}
(Know anyone who'd like to buy a blender?)
Ooooh, you're talking to your muse! [Jo slaps herself upside the head]...Duh! Sorry about that...but I hope you don't get stuck with the blender anyway.
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