Lavender, a Liberal
Lavender, a Liberal
Betty, batty from hormones, in a fanciful fit,
named her daughter Lavender. Husband Don winced.
Brothers Donald, John, Billy, and Tom
were puzzled and pleased by this sister, this girl,
who was a little bit like them, yet not like them at all.
Each night and most afternoons Betty told Lavender
stories, sang her songs, opened books full of pictures
where stout hearts bamboozled evildoers that lurked,
and rags became ball gowns glowing with pink.
Poor maids, Auroras, Swan Queens and their ilk
with true lovers, often princes, used cunning and tricks
to free castles from brambles, lift spells, smote the slick.
As happens, Lavender grew grown, moved on and away
from her mother's fine songs to live songs of her own.
She searched for a prince, found several at least,
vanquished evils and weasels, fiercely scolded some trolls,
got caught in the muck, found her footing, soldiered through.
No castles came calling; never mind she made homes.
With mostly good luck, Lavender aged right up to old.
Though her body got cranky, she kept close to her heart
certain fluttery trills and persistent wisps
of fast stallions,
wise wizards,
dances, feasts,
and folks loving loud--
as dead dragons smoldered in heaps on their hills.
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Author's Note
This is in my one and only book, One Day Tells its Tale to Another.
The other book is still searching for a fairy godmother ( or someone.)
Other stories by Nonnie Augustine
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Great musicality.
Athletic, lyrical and...sublime. ***
Particularly like, "Though her body got cranky, she kept close to her heart certain fluttery trills and persistent wisps
of fast stallions,
wise wizards,
dances, feasts,
and folks loving loud--
as dead dragons smoldered in heaps in their hills. Musical, indeed.
A little edit:
Betty told Lavender
stories, sang her songs,
opened books full of pictures
where stout hearts
bamboozled evildoers
and rags became ball gowns.
Poor maids, Auroras,
Swan Queens with true lovers, used cunning and tricks
to free castles from brambles, lift spells. As happens, Lavender grew grown,
moved on
from her mother's fine songs
lived songs of her own.
She vanquished evils
and weasels,
scolded some trolls.
Though her body got cranky,
she kept to her heart
the fluttery trills,
the persistent wisps
of fast stallions,
wise wizards,
dances, feasts,
as dead dragons smoldered
in heaps on their hills.
Betty told Lavender
stories, sang her songs,
opened books full of pictures
where stout hearts
bamboozled evildoers
and rags became ball gowns.
Poor maids, Auroras,
Swan Queens with true lovers, used cunning and tricks
to free castles from brambles, lift spells.
Lavender moved on
from her mother's fine songs
lived songs of her own.
She vanquished evils
and weasels,
scolded some trolls.
Though her body got cranky,
she kept to her heart
the fluttery trills,
the persistent wisps
of fast stallions,
wise wizards,
dances, feasts,
as dead dragons smoldered
in heaps on their hills.
Nicely done, Nonnie. Enjoyed the poem.
Good rhythmic poem. *
Very nice.
great opening
"Betty, batty from hormones, in a fanciful fit,"
****
thanks, Nonnie! :) fresh air!
"dead dragons smoldered in heaps on their hills." ***
This reminds me of the epitaphs of Spoon River Anthology, but more imaginative and lively. I think (I am remembering from my high school English class so it's dim) Anyway, I think Masters ranked the people from one dimensional souls to more elevated souls, from despair to integrity, the beginning of the book being the one-dimensional ones. Lavender would definitely be quite close to the end. *
Great book title, One Day Tells.... Really great.
This flows beautifully. I am spellbound! *
"As happens, Lavender grew grown, moved on and away
from her mother's fine songs to live songs of her own."
*