She was plump and white as fresh baked bread,
Willing and soft, waiting for the right blade to carve
Its marks into her fleshy heart –
She was “too good for him,” her parents said.
But “good” was lonely for a girl unwed,
In love, she thought, and torn apart,
His knife having already made its start,
Slicing her deeply from heart to her head.
For a fat girl feels pain as all do with slim hope,
And the flesh and the blood long for the sweet
Rush of kisses, whispers in the darkness, fire and heat.
He curls ‘neath her doorway, a tendril of smoke.
Memory carries her into the street,
And her “goodness” is wasted on the very first bloke…
A sonnet by Mother Hen
feature photo: Shutterstock
(Writing Prompt: SMOKE, part of poetry 101 rehab– Thanks, Andy! Feel free to jump on the poetry wagon each Monday!)
© motherhendiaries 2015, all rights reserved.
Categories: Poetry
Mother Hen Diaries 
Really strong imagery and an excellent cautionary tale!
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Thank you! One thing I have grown to love about poetry is that form and brevity of words seem to force imagery to the fore. I’m so pleased you enjoyed this .
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That is so true! I really like the way you have managed to tell the story but used enough inferences that every time I read it I get something different from it!
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So poignant!
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It feels sad and desperate and – most importantly – so incredibly real….
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A very powerful piece with layers of meaning, ouch!
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I am always sorry when an innocent and sweet person chooses the wrong bloke and if he “hurts” her or breaks her heart. Sometimes, when it is a person who is fully into the whole fun thing, they come out unscathed and put their own notch on their girly belt.
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Teflon lovers. The. Worst. To be avoided at all costs! Give me a soft heart and a strong mind any day…
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