Literary Woman

On Saturday, I went to a children's literature conference and what do you know, I didn't write a new poem, but returned to an old one--inspired by the description of Mrs. Darling's 'kiss' in Peter Pan--and added to it--this time inspired by other the characters secretly crushed over or are dying to re-write their Sapphic sub-plots. Still not sure about the cross-over from child to adult fiction, but hey, poetic license.

So, a second draft. Tweaking to follow I'm sure, but for now Poem #13:

Literary Woman

You were not always a Mrs,
nor have you ever been my Darling
it's just that, I want that kiss.
Mr Darling doesn't get it,
the children can't name it,
I only imagine it.

"What does the brain matter
compared with the heart,"
said the party-goer in the evening.
But not to Clarrisa, for whom
it could have been helpful, nor
Sally who wouldn't have listened.

Nor did Anne or Vita or one Miss Alexa,
all pining exactly to describe
the contours, the textures, the shape
of one Mrs Darling's kiss
all for whom's affection we did strive.



**Editor's note: This is my 365th post. If I had been writing for a year consecutively, this anniversary might have been more evident. As it is, I want to mark it all the same.

You

(Is this the start of a Peter Pan series...? I guess my studies have seeped into my poetry)

Peter Pan had the kiss, a kiss all your own.

And maybe I was a Lost Boy, a lost boy.

Maybe it's not so surprising Peter Pan

was often played by a woman

on the stage; he needed her kiss.

Mrs. Darling's Kiss

beginnings of a poem:

You are not always a Mrs.
nor have you ever been
my Darling, it's just that I want
that kiss. Mr. Darling doesn't get
it. The children can't name it.
I only imagine it.