Shoes

A little shoe in the gutter,

I find on the street,

Quick like melting butter,

The little girlie does retreat,

 

Back to safety and warmth,

So no more worry,

Although she has thought,

Of her next hurry,

 

Perhaps to go out and search,

For what she has lost,

So from warmth to cold she lurks,

But at what cost?

 

Could she and shoe reunite?

So peace of mind is got,

Or maybe out of fright,

She remains in her cot,

 

To stay away from goblins,

That occupy the dark,

Their actions causing sobbing,

From their biting and their bark,

 

But “shoe where are you?”

The girlie still cries,

She looks at bare feet, face so blue,

A sentimental goodbye.

 

She soon distracts her mind,

From such a trivial loss,

As one shoe lost you will find,

Is not so much fuss,

 

Little girlie no more she is,

Grown up and more judicious,

Swooning around in dresses,

A picture perfect delicious,

 

Although she is trying to find,

The missing part to costume,

Synapses start to grind,

A neurological fume,

 

She starts to remember back,

To when she was a girlie,

Then where she had less tact,

A childish brainy swirly,

 

She hits that epiphany now,

Of what she has to do,

A clear look is on her brow,

She says “all I need are shoes!”

 

So from joyful thought risen,

She is at peace at last,

Her shoes are lovingly given,

So shoes are her present, future and past.