An unutterably old lady sits by the fireside alone

It is the middle of winter, snow falls outside

No-one has called on her for months

In her wrinkled hand a photograph

The girl is smiling, she was always so happy

The lustrous dark hair tumbles about her shoulders

So shiny those curls, she must surely have just washed it?

Eyes bright with the hopes and dreams of youth

Hers, the prettiest visage God ever contemplated

Perched coquettishly on the swing

Something in the pose reveals the chrysalis within

Not yet adult, her childhood fills its last valise

Preparing to depart with all its beloved possessions

Maybe to pave the way for a new owner not yet born

Girlish tease, flirtatious promise

Both are present in that sweet expression,

flared hips and those curved delights beneath her uniform....

Virginity radiates from her uncomplicated youth

As sure as breath issues from between those full lips

That soon will rake the passions of so many young men

Just one of whom will claim the prize

And spend his life in praise of being born

Yet sixteen summers had passed that day

She remembered her father seated on the fallen log

As he framed her image in the viewfinder

Could he have known how much she loved him?

How much she needed him?

It was her father that she smiled for

He that she had wanted, he for whom she could never admit

to having such unnatural thoughts and desires

The girl on the swing smiled for the camera

In another time and another place, an unutterably old lady cries

.....for probably the last time

(c) Peter_Pan 2006

Autobiography at: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/booksearch/isbnInquiry.asp?userid=PQ0lfOLCgC&isbn=1411624149&itm=1

http://search.barnesandnoble.com/booksearch/isbnInquiry.asp?userid=PQ0lfOLCgC&isbn=1411624149&itm=1">http://search.barnesandnoble.com/booksearch/isbnInquiry.asp?userid=PQ0lfOLCgC&isbn=1411624149&itm=1