QUIXOTEdottv@ ZAZZLE.com
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.
Well, Happy Valentine's Day from the Grinch, LOL. I wrote this in 2010 as an offshoot from a poem of Fireblossom's: Sunday Bookstore Cafe, which is wonderful. So it is not new, but seemed the perfect response to Kerry's prompt at Real Toads: Is Love a tender thing? Well, sometimes it is. I am not entirely jaded. And sometimes Mr Right turns out to be a big black laughing dog who understands devotion. Smiles. Happy Valentines Day, to all romantic dreamers, of which I am still one.
It saddens me that trusting and loving people are taken as fools by those who 'know how to play the game' but I can't help but feel that blueberry muffin girl had a healthier, happier life in the long run.
ReplyDeleteShe did indeed. Once the farce was over, life could only get better! His loss, LOL.
DeleteI've known guys like that.
ReplyDeleteWhat i never knew was
How they did it.
BTW - mine was true, and we're living happily ever after.
Cheers!
JzB
Been there, done that, baked the muffins!
ReplyDeleteHaha! He was no Don Quixote who embodied respect for women--one of the few who kept alive that foolish notion! Yours disguised himself as that last shred of chivalry to get what he wanted. I'd cook him something too, maybe with arsenic and old lace!
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed the story-style in this, Sherry!
ReplyDeleteheh. so just what did she slip into those muffins....ha....gotcha!
ReplyDeleteMine was chocolate chip cookies. His loss. Great poem, Sherry!
ReplyDelete"He spoon-fed her promises
ReplyDeleteand butterscotch pudding..." love that line, Sherry. Life is full of fools, and sometimes it's good to be one for awhile, because it saves a lot of time later on.
This just fits together so well Sherry! I have known too many of those men--sad to say
ReplyDeleteOh the game, she didn't and she lost, but what is said better to have loved and lost ...
ReplyDeleteHappy Valentine 2015
Much love...
Yeowch--I am also wondering about those muffins! I am glad that she got rid of him! Thanks, Sherry. k. (Manicddaily)
ReplyDeleteMy first love turned to another younger than I, and I was all of sixteen. Love makes fools of us, but if we are lucky we learn our lessons. Great piece!
ReplyDeleteAlas too often true, love is for some a game and numbers and for others finding friendships of forever. Though I think at the end the player will be lonely and the faithful will find friends... And I hope she put some wicked things n his muffins.
ReplyDeleteI love your rewrite of Don Quixote. Is that muffin recipe anywhere on line?
ReplyDeleteI'm smiling at this one. I married a latin man. Every once in a while, he turns on a chivalrous persona. I need those muffins for those occasions.
life is too short to play those kinds of games, don't you think? but it was entirely too generous to bake him blueberry muffins! {smile}
ReplyDeletei hope all is well with you, Sherry!
♥
Sigh...too many out there want to 'keep their options open' without commitment in the mix. Bah humbug.
ReplyDeleteMaybe he'll tilt his sword into a vat of butterscotch pudding and she'll learn to save her baking for someone worthy!
ReplyDelete… I'd take blueberry muffins over a Don Quixote any day. Love (forget romance) does come in many different packages - nothing wrong with that :)
ReplyDelete:) ~
ReplyDelete