[image created by QUIXOTEdottv @ zazzle.com]
This poem was inspired by Fireblossom's poem Sunday Bookstore Cafe, about a blueberry muffin and the loss of love. A universal theme, it appears :)
He was addicted to
beginnings,
to conquest,
to the thrill of the chase.
He had perfected
the bedding of women,
the cute little schticks,
the crafted phrase,
the poetic verbiage.
She was a romantic
whose life had held
precious little romance.
She had been alone,
it seems,
forever.
She felt like
the Dickensian character
sitting in her parlor
draped in cobwebs
waiting for the phone to ring.
Alas! they found each other.
He believed he was
Don Quixote,
always off on a quest.
He wooed her wary heart
with words of forever,
cajoled her past her fear
with honeyed phrases.
Her heart, starved for love,
for romance,
for this to be true,
responded
while her Inner Wise Woman
was thrown into fearful panic
and did not feel safe.
Her head, however,
refused to listen
as the ground shifted
beneath her feet
and she clung on.
He spoon-fed her promises
and butterscotch pudding.
To others,
he said he was
"keeping his options open".
Too soon
he grew bored.
She had toppled too easily.
She wasnt "playing the game",
her sister said.
Confused, she replied,
from her honest heart
"I dont play games."
"More's the pity,"
said her sister.
On the side, he was already
lining up
the next glorious
breathtaking
adventure.
There were two women
in his sights.
He "kept his options open"
in case one of them
didn't work out.
To her,
he said,
he was "confused."
He "needed time."
Then, he must "follow his truth."
He dumped her on Valentine's Day.
And she?
About to go into
the full-blown shock
of betrayal,
devastation,
and, quite soon,
some healthy
invigorating anger,
before she left
she made him a batch
of her wicked blueberry muffins,
to remember her by,
because he'd
"miss her muffins".
Good God.
She'd never see another
blueberry muffin
without an ironic
grimace,
the thought of him
bumbling about
the scattered
landscape of love,
tilting his sword
at all the pretty ladies.
But, Don Quixote was a true romantic. This guy? All window dressing, it sounds like.
ReplyDeleteA little belladonna in those muffins might have gone a long way. ;-)
brilliant! just brilliant! savoured every word... "Alas!" i love that one... spoon-feeding promises... "Good God" said it all...
ReplyDeletethoroughly enjoyed it. :)
A truly delightful read!
ReplyDeleteHee hee, I enjoyed writing it. Thanks, kids!
ReplyDeleteLol Sherry, nice poem. :-)
ReplyDeleteSherry, you are becoming a sage:)
ReplyDeleteI don't post my comments every time, but I read them all. Thousands of miles away, across cultures and continents, I cant stop wondering, cant stop picturising your beautiful hillsides and hey, am grateful for your words of encouragement, really am.
Oh! this is so beautiful I am crying....
ReplyDeleteToo true to our lives, neh?
What a marvelous poet are you!!
Hugs,
Lady Nyo
An excellent read. And so very well written.
ReplyDeleteExcellent poem! This belongs in a story book with some great pictures. We want Chapter 2.
ReplyDeleteSo glad you enjoyed it. Sadly one does not becomke a sage without living through such humiliations, hee hee!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful writing! It's a story that just draws you right along, in delightful entertainment. What a fool of man!
ReplyDeleteHmmmmm.....I could really go crazy with Chapter Two - what a good idea!
ReplyDeleteIsn't there a way to get the muffins back?? Argh
ReplyDeleteLove this poem xx
There is humour here, and bitterness too. How well you have presented them side by side.
ReplyDeleteSounds like the pilot who dumped me on my answering machine.
ReplyDeleteSounds like her sister was with holding some valuable information.
ReplyDeleteThe words 'keeping one's options open' really rankle me! Thanks for sharing this story/poem here, as I see I missed it first time around!
ReplyDeleteI'd fall for a guy who spoonfed me butterscotch pudding too! She should have saved the blueberry muffins for herself, though! Great poem!
ReplyDeleteLove this one, Sherry.
ReplyDelete(When we went to Spain, I insisted we travel part of the Don Q route. Turns out it's all marked and signposted. Took some of the fun out of it, but the windmills were wonderful.)
K
tilting his sword
ReplyDeleteat all the pretty ladies.
ha! He's a fool and she is lucky to see him gone! :)
I initially thought she put poisen in the blueberry muffins...would have almost served him right. :)
ReplyDelete