The Woman Who Never WasA Poem by David Lewis PagetI’d seen her coming and going for A couple of years or more, Her hair in the wind was blowing Every time she walked on the shore, I must admit I was taken in By her eyes and her lips of gloss, She made me think of imagined sin The woman who never was. She wore the flimsiest blouses that Were loose, and tied at the waist, And lived in one of those houses they Put up in the new estate. She seemed to delight in teasing me By wearing her skirts so high, The slightest gust from a breeze would free A glimpse of a naked thigh. She never actually spoke to me But she’d raise a brow my way, While I hung over the garden gate Thinking of what to say, And soon it became a ritual She’d pass in the early hours, Then come again in the afternoon With her basket full of flowers. In time I noticed a subtle change In the way she wore her hair, She started to pin it back, and then It didn’t seem so fair. The eyes that had used to tantalise Became harder, and the gloss Was fading out on the ruby lips Of the woman who never was. I thought I was slowly losing her But just a little each day, Nothing would stay the same, I saw Her slowly fading away, I said to a friend, ‘What’s happening, I have this sense of loss,’ And he replied she was trapped inside, The woman who never was. ‘She doesn’t really exist you know, It’s better you let her free, You’ve compromised and idealised Till she thinks, ‘I can’t be me.’ She may just show if you let her go, If you don’t, you’ll count the loss, She’ll stay forever inside you then The woman who never was.’ I switched her off and I walked the shore, Went up to the new estate, Then held my breath and knocked at her door And I said, ‘I know I’m late.’ She looked at me and she smiled, you see, And she said, ‘My name is Roz, It’s been so long I was feeling wrong Like the woman who never was.’ David Lewis Paget
© 2015 David Lewis PagetFeatured Review
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