40... ?
Marriage has such great potential for evil
Some women are proud of cheating husbands
Some wives act superior with material possessions
Rejected, shamed, bedeviled
You think to mock my humble levels
Even you, who awaits the turn of a third wife
At your strange man's polygamous hovel
If you ask me if I have loved a man; yes
If you ask me if a man has ever loved me; no
When I was young I dreamed of him, and babies
Now, at this age, hope consumes much energy
The church expects my cheerful expectation
I smile, how nice and flowery, the Thought....
But all too soon the Headaches come
He will want his food made from scratch
He will demand, to his desires, I constantly adapt
Today skinny, tomorrow fat;
Today white, tomorrow black...
The in-laws! The ex girlfriends!
The current girlfriends!
His selfishness! His heartlessness!
His high-handedness!
His mother...her rage...
not at Gods favour upon my life
But why, must it be a woman past her prime?
My skin is soft and shiny, my hair long and full
But to her such is simply replaceable.
The royal focus is my womb...
My first address then, will be the church!
Praying also against certain impending hurt; From him who uses my body's married pains,
in willful whimsical worldly ways
Don't I want to marry? It tarried,
this flowery Thought
Till purpose faded into what could have been
My space is now controlled as My domain
Then what might I do with a husband's name?
And indeed, what might he do, with me?
These odds I have no patience with
But God performs miracles in such circumstances
To answer this question is a task!
Put it to the little girl behind the mask!
Is she gone then, along with the past!
You still believe time has the answers!
Then ask the woman here in this now
Is she Too tired? Not interested? Offended?
Ask me tomorrow, for the future is a white cloud
Who knows! Destiny might change my mind
Only let me enjoy this rest that is bereft
of passion and joy and society's blessedness
What lonely travail, climbing uphill
I look down but I am not tempted to start again
Not for any broad shoulder or cocky grin
Not when
So close
I see the summit...
YOU ARE READING
THE SECRET OPERA HOUSE
PoetryTHE SECRET OPERA HOUSE is a poetry collection of meditative thoughts and simple rhymes; there are very long poems, short poems, dramatic poetry for drama or performance poetry, and free style essays. The poems all have either christian or romantic t...
