A Hand-Held Heart

The clock strikes late,
Well past the hour of scandal.
She slips past the folded gardenia
Each hand a-holding a sandal.

The cat calls out,
Welcoming his mistress’ return.
She scratches betwixt each furried ear,
Though both her cheeks still burn.

She stayed so long
With he she desires too neatly.
But he’s promised to a foreign girl;
Her life now crashed completely.

Morning will come,
And things will look much better.
Such is the lie we tell ourself
Just before our heart we refetter.

The clock chimes six,
Milady starts her new day.
Classes at ten, then tea with Papa;
Slowly she regains her way.

But the class at five:
Esther has violin at Mr.Randall’s.
Wish her the best for this sorest test
With the cause of hand-held sandals.

He does not know;
Forgive him his ignorant part.
He instructs in Bach and a bit of Chopin,
But knows nothing of the young girl’s heart.

She gets thru Bach;
There is no breath of scandal.
Esther bows quite well which bodes quite well:
Ritenuto, she departs from Mr. Randall.

Love can be cruel
As Life and the clock tick on.
Esther in time will find her beaux
And master the bowing of Saint-Saens.

The hand-held heart:
Young love in time learns wisdom.
So all the hurt and enflamed false starts
Leads to Love and Maturity in tandem.


About Kitt

Sometimes a rhyme or couplet wanders across my consciousness. So, I share it. Other times I'm a hospice social worker; others, a Dad; others, southerner, New Orleanian, cajun enthusiast, voter, and on better days, a not-too-awful-poet/rhymster. Welcome to my page. Enjoy.

Posted on September 30, 2013, in Poem. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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