She saw the shadow outside her window elongate, shorten, and elongate again wondering, until with arms akimbo took a dive inside her soul He kept her home from school that day, cleaning floors and cupboards-- baffling! What must the youngster have done to have earned herself such drubbing? Then with the precision of the school bell to the floor, on her knees, he ordered her go " 'arms outstretched,' " he compelled as he stacked books-- one on top of the other The Encyclopedias she borrowed from the library, the thick dictionary she inherited from him. "Oh, you wicked, son of your mother," she purred "You knew I wouldn't drop those treasures they held the knowledge I desired-- that, given time, would become my propellers." And as if that wasn't enough castigation for her nine-year-old frame to endure he swiftly opened the front door-- for observation ruined her soul, made her heart obscure What did he think would inform her character? How were his mundane proclivities supposed to endear him to her? So now that he stood there looking in-- "Let him look," she muttered. The man will forever be an outsider to her soul. *** © 2021 selmamartin.com
Photo: Mada portrait, www.metmuseum.org
I’m laughing today. If you happen to have visited my website yesterday, you’d know why. Starting with the image of a window through which Lily Briscoe is looking in on the owners of the cottage, and analyzing them so well in her mind– that poem could have worked for the prompt of today.
But that was written for yesterday’s prompt which asked for a poem with a series of questions. Was Lily on to something yesterday, you think? I’d love to know your take on that.
If you missed it yesterday, please click on the above link.
Now onwards to how I worked on today’s prompt. This one was inspired by Dawn’s Nights Why Me? poem of yesterday.
That poem touched me. Dawn wrote about an eight-year-old little girl. Mine mentions the memories of a nine-year-old. Furthermore, I imitated a friend/poet here by going to The Met and searching for the picture of a self-assured nine-year-old. Hope you enjoyed that as well.
Do click on the link of Dawn’s poem, if you haven’t already. It’s sad but endearing. God bless us, everyone.
The prompt today on Day 29 of NaPoWriMo is a fun one again. Thank you so much. And to all my readers, thanks for reading, and as always, I wish you miracles. xo, Selma.
- NPM Scavenger Hunt – Poems from Around the World - April 30, 2024
- Day 30: NaPoWriMo 2024–Mary Magdalene At The Doctor’s - April 30, 2024
- Day 29: NaPoWriMo 2024–Inside Love Incandescent - April 29, 2024
The poem title and stanza five 🙂
You saw that? You liked? Thanks so much. You rock. Be well, my sweet. I wish you miracles
The ending!!
You’re sweet for leaving a comment. Thanks so much. Be well. I wish you miracles.
I am so touched. Thank you. Now I’ve got to go read yesterday’s poem too! 🙂
You’re ever so welcome. Your poem was inspiring. Thanks for sharing. Be well.
I’m trying. And succeeding, not too poorly, with a little help from my friends 🙂
I love the spirit displayed in the poem, it matches the picture, the fire inside that young girl so well!
And yes, let them look. They’ll never come near to touching our souls.
So glad you saw the picture that way. That’s how i meant it. Thanks so much.
I’m looking forward to more of your work. So keep going. I wish you miracles
Yes, that young girl sure reminds me of a younger me, when I used to wear dresses 🙂
I mean on those days I would. I loved dresses as well.
I’ll probably be late with my poems, but I’ll write the last two ones!
Wishing you miracles too. I believe we make them happen as well, when we wish hard enough 🙂