My dear sweet, little sister;
an annoyance sent by angry storks.
Oh, how with floppy tongues they flock.
She is a nymph and I, Medusa.
If only they would love me the way they love her.
Her room is as pink as embarrassing thoughts.
Cushions flower on her bed like rose quartz.
The curtains flush with a secret,
falling crushed on the carpet.
The only survivor is a nervous wooden door.
I despair of her blushing room.
I want to throw black paint on her walls,
to make a million black holes
and draw out the crimson bloom
like venom from a fraying wound.
Yet, she knows the criticism I give that cuts,
is only out of an older sister’s love.
I remember the night before her operation
she crawled into my bed at 4.00 am
and I held her while she shook.
Comments
Silver Spun Sand | February 23, 2009 - 18:27
Magic, how very much this delightful poem reminded me of my two daughters. The eldest adored pink, whilst the youngest was much more of a 'red' person.
The years went by and something strange happened. The 'pink' daughter turned her preference to red and the 'red' daughter - to pink.
Life can be contrary that's for sure, but the one thing that didn't change, right until the end, was their love for each other. In fact it deepened.
This poem is a charming portrait of sisterhood, beautifully and sensitively written.
Tina xxx
threeleafshamrock | February 23, 2009 - 19:11
Lovely poem Magic. As usual, the finish is perfect; I always feel it's so important to finish a piece well and you obviously do the same. Great stuff, as usual. ;)
Chris X
MistakenMagic | February 23, 2009 - 19:15
Thank you Tina and Chris ;) My sister got a bit annoyed when she found out about the last stanza. I promised I wouldn't let slip to my parents that we had a little slumber party that night!
Magic xxx
FTSE100 | February 23, 2009 - 21:48
"Her room is as pink as embarrassing thoughts"
I like!
I'm still contemplating your mole, by the way. It could emerge from its hole any day now.
Dynamaso | February 24, 2009 - 05:18
I particularly like the 2nd stanza but the whole piece is a lovely tribute to sibling affection.
luigi_pagano | February 24, 2009 - 09:28
There is always an element of competition between siblings with the elder believing that the attention given to the younger is excessive, but it is a rivalry tinged with love that creates an everlasting bond.
A nice poem with good imagery. Well done on the cherry.
Luigi xxx
jennifer | February 24, 2009 - 15:07
'Her room is as pink as embarrassing thoughts.'
'and draw out the crimson bloom
like venom from a fraying wound.'
are simply magical, the imagery in this is awesome, and the last stanza is a lesson in 'showing' not 'telling'!
J x
MistakenMagic | February 24, 2009 - 15:20
Thank you FTSE, Dynamaso, Luigi and Jen! I'm so glad my first attempt at a rhyme scheme went down so well ;) Gosh, I might have to do it again!
Magic xxx
P.S Yes, FTSE I am waiting for my mole story to appear ;)
Doeslittle | February 24, 2009 - 16:38
I thought this was very charming too.
MistakenMagic | February 24, 2009 - 18:47
Thank you for your comment Doeslittle ;)
Magic xxx
Nathan Bednarek | February 26, 2009 - 23:29
I really feel this poem Magic, even though I don't have any brothers of sisters ;-/
What I love about your poetry is that it makes me feel connected to things that are sometimes impossible for me to fully understand or experience. This poem is just another brilliant product of that crafty pen of yours ;-)
The ending is overwhelming.
Well done.
Nathan.
MistakenMagic | February 27, 2009 - 18:17
Thank you so much Nathan ;) I'm glad my poetry is able to have such an impact!
Magic xxx