Sunday, 10 April 2016

A phased out bond

Never did a man fancy
Ribbons or bows
Till a tiny tot
Tugged at his toes.

Promptly, but not intentionally
I snatched the place of his lady love-
And she was now bound to be on
Either side of my glove.

Everything he bought for her
Now came in a pair of two
But somehow the reverse
Was barely ever true.

It was never a matter of shame
To serve him by pulling out his socks
And he could be the one
To get me into frocks.

Our bond was a fresh example of faith
As when he would fling me up in the sky
Even a perfect couple remained curious
For when I would let out a cry.

As time flew by
Puberty struck me
Mild touches turned awkward
Not even with the exception of a bruised knee.

Tantrums no longer worked in my favour
Nor could I argue that red wasn't close to pink
Instead he was ready with a cane
Somehow that was enough to loosen our link.

I met my love in my later years
But he couldn't perceive my emotions
Instead he disapproved with a ridiculous explanation
And subsequently cited what I felt as notions.

He appeared to be friendly
Yet failed at being a friend
Because when I required support
He seemed preoccupied even on the weekend.

Gone were those days
Of not being tied down by restrictions
But now when he comes home late
My heart develops a series of intuitions.

His fragile arm sticks out
From his flannel shirt
Aimlessly flicking through channels
As I stretch my little skirt.

He passes the salad bowl
From across the table
And mashes up his food to
Cover his worry of my being stable.

~Poem 23


Some bonds are magical
(Picture credits: Unknown; Source: We heart it)