I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world,
to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

11 October 2014

Old is Beautiful

Despite the big tummy and hips,
despite the saggy tits,
despite the increasing wrinkles,
I am beautiful!
Everyone says so.

I post my photos on facebook,
carefully chosen of course
but still revealing I’m aged,
and compliments proliferate.
It’s a satisfying feeling.

When I was young,
I was the un-beautiful girl,
wallflower at dances.
(Or was that for the two left feet
and being too shy to talk?)

Anyway, I was never going to be
a Playboy centrefold,
and the boys never swarmed, buzzing.
I’m not sure how I scored
the three husbands, all the lovers.

But now I’m beautiful.
It’s a proven fact.
And when I walk down the street
or into the shops,
people smile and call me darling.

At nearly 75, finally
I made it. I think it must be
because I’m a witch. I prayed —
no, not to the Devil, you fool.
He doesn’t exist. The Devil’s a myth.

But when I was young
and felt the lack,
I prayed hard for beauty.
And kept on praying. Now
here it is! The Goddess is good.

31 Poems in 31 Days (from Poewar / Writer's Resource Center). Prompt: Write a poem in the first person that makes a definitive statement. Stand behind something you believe or tell a bold lie. Either way, embrace what you have to say.

4 comments:

  1. Yes, you are, Rosemary! I resonate with this poem. I never felt pretty when I was young either though now I suspect we may have been and just didnt know it........but today I am really laughing at myself. I went and got a witch's hat (which suits me only too well) as I wanted a photo like yours. The result is horrifying and I am now in need of Trauma Therapy, hee hee. Best I just wear the hat and forget about the photo! I need a new neck. Or neck socks, one or the other.

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  2. It's a proven fact, dearest Rosemary.

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