Glass Slippers (Poetry)
14th August 2011
I found them in their box today —
tissue-wrapped dream-shoes bought long ago
on a romantic whim.
I still believed then — in fairytales
and destiny — and that one fine night
would magic me a ballroom
and a handsome prince to waltz my life away with.
In my version of the plot
the bewitching midnight hour
would pass us by without a glitch —
no change — the music would play on
and violins do self-renewing spells — entrance
our feet to tireless ever-after dancing...
The dream faded and grew old — the shoes
stayed as they were — age changed
that once-slender lightfoot girl and now
I can’t bear to try to fit arthritic toes inside
these too-small impossibly-fragile slippers —
and that final realization breaks my heart.
tissue-wrapped dream-shoes bought long ago
on a romantic whim.
I still believed then — in fairytales
and destiny — and that one fine night
would magic me a ballroom
and a handsome prince to waltz my life away with.
In my version of the plot
the bewitching midnight hour
would pass us by without a glitch —
no change — the music would play on
and violins do self-renewing spells — entrance
our feet to tireless ever-after dancing...
The dream faded and grew old — the shoes
stayed as they were — age changed
that once-slender lightfoot girl and now
I can’t bear to try to fit arthritic toes inside
these too-small impossibly-fragile slippers —
and that final realization breaks my heart.