On Second Thought
Looking back
you were not the perfect prince,
as a love crushed young girl
once described you,
or even the great intellectual
I had imagined you.
As a matter of fact
you were occasionally
do I dare say illiterate,
often caddish
where it suited your purpose,
easily disarming
the next casualty selected,
cold and aloof,
when warmth was expected.
Yet all in all
you were a rocket flare,
short lived, but spectacular,
memorable in so many ways,
even now in my dusky days.
I have to smile
when thoughts of you
waffle in through memories scent,
and Yves St Laurent hangs
too closely in the air,
or the thrust of a
patrician chin appears
on another "prince"
directing his full attention
on an unwary woman
sliding rapidly into
imagination's snare.
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Author's Note
On answering the age old question. "What in the world did you ever see in that man?"
Other stories by Judith A. Lawrence
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Beautiful lyrical poem with gorgeous images, angst, and a touch of humor gleaned from distance and the living of life
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Susan,
Thanks for the invite. What fun! Lovely comments...much appreciated.
Wonderful, particularly the last stanza. I've asked myself this question a lot and this is a fabulous answer!
"an unwary woman sliding rapidly into imagination's snare"! Love it, love it, love it!
Do you mean "memory's" scent? up there by the Yves St Laurent?
Phoebe,
My reference is to how an unexpected scent stirs memories, and the scent in this poem is Yves St Laurent, a very sensual men's cologne. You may be thinking of the city, Saint-Laurent in Quebec.
If men fully understood the power of scent to a woman, there would be the sound of hooves dashing to the mall this very moment to purchase and anoint themselves with Yves St Laurent before they head out on the hunt. :-)
This is incredibly lovely and true, Judith. There's such a wryness and wisdom to this poem. And I agree, about the power of scent. *
=)
This has such a wonderful sense of acceptance mixed with cynicism, I like it! Love this line: "as a love crushed young girl"
Yup, it's an epidemic. Who let the dogs out?
An unwary woman sliding into "his" snare.
so true and so good. Nice to read your poem Judith.
My apology to all for lack of responses. I've been working non-stop on the special edition of River Poets Journal plus the usual hustle and bustle of holiday preparation. Thank you all for wonderful comments and Favs. Tell Santa if you see him, I want a clone for Christmas!
Happy Holidays to All!