The New Novel
Winslow Homer 1877
Storytelling
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?
Cait O’Connor
11 comments:
Really like this! Fits some of us...
Love this ...
Great poem, love the lady in the poem, more should be like her.
I was in Edinburgh for part of this week and was delighted to see a 'museum of storytelling' - you would have liked it too I expect.
Love the new picture at top-o'-the-blog!
Rian pointed me over to you, Cait, and that poem? Oh my, now I'm following yet ANOTHER blog. I'm so glad to meet you. :-)
Found your blog on Djan's blog and I love this poem. I am also a poet. The painting at the top of the page takes me away. I'll be back.
I loved this poem! It reminded me so much of my daughter. She is no longer living, but this was her. It was so her. Thank you for writing this and sharing it.
I found you by reading DJan's blog. I love the painting at the top of you blog. Just love it.
I think I would like her if I were allowed to meet her.
I love your poem Cait, it really resonates. It sounds odd to say 'that's what I'm like', but it's true to a large degree.
I too have been enjoying the painting on your blog, and Winslow Homer is totally wonderful.
Lovely and dreamy.
Enjoyed reading...
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