Thimbleful of Thumbelina~

This is my thimble

It is tiny

But large enough to hold

A thousand pieces of confetti

And a single wedding band

 

My life was traded for food

I can understand hunger

What is a barleycorn

After all

To a starving woman

 

I grew a walnut cradle

From the bark of a tree

Being tiny

I could never get warm

Except in a c curve

Around my own body

 

I, small

Vulnerable

It was toad and his entourage

Who came first

To test my tiny fists

But I had the butterfly peel her magik

From the inside

Of my right wrist

And the koi fish to the rescue

Leaping from the base of my skull

Swallowing old toad down

In a spray of blood

 

On a lily pad for eons

Adrift on a stream

While men went about forging hard things

And leaving magik to scribbles on the rocks

For study

Under spectacles

I was pleasantly undisturbed

In a rip van wrinkle theory

Until a stag beetle staggered by

But spat me quickly back into my skin

When his compatriots

Covered their eyes;

Even beetles have a sense of inherent

Taboo

 

Winters were the most bitter

Frost hands

Icicles in my hair

The field mouse found me frozen to his door

Took pity

Pulled me through the straw

To dream near the fireplace

Where a swallow reclined as well

Healing broken wings I caressed

into solid forms, each and every night

And things were good

Until the spring thaw

When mole peeked his nose

Through the earth

And blindly

Snatched

At my awakening fertility

 

Hidden beneath swallow’s wing

We took flight

To a land

Where Thumbelina’s were the norm

And here I found a wedding band

Placed it in my thimble

With every scrap of confetti

Covered in scribbles

Of stories in fragments

Waiting to happen

 

And no, I married no prince

For princes are fairy tales

And Thumbelinas

Are, sadly

The norm

 

 

 

copyright:2011vssmd/amusemusepress

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Reviews

[Kerry O'Connor]

One of my favourite tales of childhood, the tiny girl asleep in the walnut shell, adrift on the lily-pad, escaping two bad marriages and knowing the soul-mate swallow who showed her the path to freedom... fairy prince (Meh)

I loved your metaphoric twists which brought such life to the archetypes:
I had the butterfly peel her magik

From the inside

Of my right wrist

And the koi fish to the rescue

Leaping from the base of my skull

Swallowing old toad down

In a spray of blood

[Dream Weaver]

I love the flow the premise and the overall feel
of this beautiful engaging write! Amazing!

[Chris Smith Welshpoetcs]

THe sad plight of Thumbelina, searching to find something special. Not wanting a prince but never finding her Tom Thumb. Selene I love this poem my friend.