"noblewoman" poems
"She is clothed in strength and dignity and laughs without fear of the future" -Proverbs 31:25
A noble woman.
Noble - having or showing fine personal qualities or high moral, royal principles and ideals.
Knowing this, I ask myself, 'is he worthy of being graced by my royalty?'
No.
And me, being so fine, why should I EVER have to dry my eyes as a result of his peasantry?
[You shouldn't']
Then I think about how moral I am, and all the good I gave to that man, things that no average woman can,
[He's silly]
So, keeping all of that in mind, I ask myself,
'Should a Noblewoman cry as much as I?'
[No.]
Lastly, should my dignity, hard earned, clothing me, be compromised for a man with 4 eyes, 1 mouth (full of lies), 2 hands that never had the courage to meet the small of my back, 2 legs that walk around here (arrogantly) like the gold was sitting betwixt his thighs and not mine.
[I'm not finished yet]
1 pipe, that I longed for, didn't even care if it was long or...
26 short teeth that I gave my all to make sure were always showing
1 pair of pants that were too tight anyway
1 face that I didn't get to see much, but it doesn't even matter because it wasn't cute anyway.
[Hell n-]
The nerve of that man.
So in strength, I'll move on, striding fearlessly into the future, laughing even after so much suffering, because I'm too fine, too dignified, too good ANYWAY.
D, Noblewoman
Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 8:07 PM UTC
A governess, a guardian of the young, so known and dear as to be called “Mother” and a noblewoman, just barely 12 by age, named Portia, sit talking as the sun sets the stage for a cool, cloudless night.
“Mother, who invented candlelight and the slow, delicate brush of lips?”
“Some rakish boy, pawning his experience for present pleasure, no doubt.”
“Say true, Mother. If you were a man, would you find this common body worthy of love?”
“You show no blemish child, and display a certain bony voluptuousness - I should think.”
The governess begins to comb and braid Portia’s hair for sleep.
“I saw Portincio this morning, in the courtyard.”
“The boy from Padua?”
“He’s a man Mother, and his cast portents a passion so sweet - it shakes my very frame.”
Mother chuckles, “Even hopeless birds sing in cages.”
“I am not hopeless!” Portia writhes angrily, like a snake about to strike but mother calms her.
“Shoo, shoo, now,” Mother purrs, brushing all the more gently, “I meant nothing of it.” After a moment, she continues, “Love is more than coquetry, little one, and it soon passes - like a parade, or a rash. For now, be happy, you are like the chaste stars - unreachable.”
Feb 23, 2023
Feb 23, 2023 at 10:44 PM UTC