Chafing.
The ready aroma of un-begun love
pervaded the fetters in which she simmered.
The chafing of hungry restraint
cloistered her longing and calloused the
rigid decorum of concord.
The lady burned for the covert, craved
the taboo and dreamt
of surrender to reckless behaviour,
yet still concurred.
Locked in ruthless austerity of hollow
convention warm
juices gelled when met with rejection.
As the haze of make-believe parted
revealing reality
so starkly set she started to weep.
Lucre pursued produces poor little
rich girls who, rule
immersed in frigid formality, learn
as they yearn for love.
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Author:
Fay Slimm. (
Offline) - Published: August 22nd, 2019 02:53
- Comment from author about the poem: A sad little weekday tale about the difference in cultural expectations...........hope you enjoy.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 52
Offline)
Comments3
this is so damn good... probably now one of my favouwrite Fay Slimm's yet... this has ticked all the boxes for me Fay well done you, I say........and truly....... Neville
A bucket of thanks for your wonderful and complimentary comment dear Neville - shall now go away and cover my blushes.............................. x
those words are still meant and true...
A fine write Fay.
Thank you dear Orchi.
i'm embarrassed to reveal i am still a virgin (sssshhh I haven't told my son yet) so i can't really understand this piece.
On the basis that all the 'poor little rich girls' i met were right ravers! Ah, those hot summer evenings in the grounds of Cheltenham Girls College.
Ha - - - I guess D.A. that your untouched condition was lost pretty quickly if I remember that College aright - - used to hang our myself around those very quarters summers ago - - but was never lured by the call of their lucre. Thanks a load for revealing your secret though - - and with another read you maybe more in the picture methinks.................
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