The New Novel
Winslow Homer 1877
She always was a different kind of child
who thought and schemed and dreamed her days away
while telling secret stories in her head,
always despised dull colouring books;
refused to stay between restricting lines.
Never was a matching-shoes
-and- handbag kind of girl, or felt the need
to be a bride, dressed head-to- toe in white,
passed across from one man to another.
She won’t do fashion, can’t abide the hype;
hates wasting words with others in small talk,
would never tow a line, act like a sheep,
and really needs to spend some days alone.
Last night she found her soulmate with her in
a dream and took him with her on a walk,
they recognised each other’s hearts and held each other’s hands.
A dream so joyful just because it felt so right,
she knew she dreamed him, did he also dream her there?