Maydays: Poem – Free Verse – ” Your Wrinkles Make You Beautiful” #Maydays



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Thank you to K.L. Caley from new2writing for hosting #Maydays prompts. Today’s prompt is beauty, something or someone beautiful. I’m reposting a poem I wrote for my Great-Godmother. She is a special person to me and doing well past her mid-nineties in age.

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There is beauty in your wrinkles, 

A deep timely beauty, that took experience to make.

You are more than classic; you are infinitely lovely and gorgeouse.

No twenty-two year old in all her youthful vigor is so pretty, 

That she can have more knowledge than your reflective eyes.

Or more inspiration then your smiles give, 

More thoughts racing through her mind, of a life both hard and incredible.

Your beauty is eternal, a flame that won’t die out.

You shall carry it to heaven with you because you loved a child in a manger and your faith made your life well.

You are more exotic and enchanting then any woman in the land; 

You are the light of home to many. 

When your presence fades there shall be a void felt by all those who loved your luminescence;

 A beauty which was internal and spread to your warm skin.

A beauty that inhabits everyone of your loved ones and friends. 

You are simply marvellous, a dame that no one can compare with.

You had husbands, boyfriends, and partners with which you shared your life and your beauty with delight. 

You out-lived them all with your smile and a bounce in your step.

Your wrinkles are truly beautiful because they tell your story.

A story growing up on a farm, a story of loss, a house in the city, a story of love, and fond memories. 

And through it all shone your pretty face. 

Those bright eyes and your laughing mouth; your wonderful hugs, good wishes —

And your many roles throughout your life. 

Beauty lies in everything those roles made you; you were unstoppable.

 In your stylish shoes and upbeat attitude.

You are lovely, and will always be to me a Grandma, a Great-Godmother, and a friend.

Such wisdom you hold, your wisdom you cooked into pies, soups, trifles, lasagna;

Your hospitality made you beautiful.

You are the rarest rose in the garden;

 Loved by so many and so many you have met. 

This is why I say your wrinkles make you beautiful, 

For you are incredible, a gem in a pile of fakes.

A fantastic woman and every year as you age your beauty is much deeper.

Your wrinkles make you beautiful.

Let no one say otherwise —

 For one day I want wrinkles too, 

For I wish to be beautiful as you.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

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Maydays: NonFiction- One Sip #Maydays


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Thank you to C.L. Kaley for hosting #Mayday prompts. Today’s prompt is a dating story. 


 

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“What are you having?” I asked Az.

“Oh um, nothing too big. I think I will have the calamari starter.”

“Oh gross, seafood. Especially calamari, it’s so rubbery.” I told Az.

“Mmm, I love it. What are you having?”

“I think I’ll have the usual.” I said and Az rolls his eyes but smiles.

“This is my first Valentine’s date you know. I’ve never been out with a guy on Valentine’s before.”

“Oh is it?” Az says smiling.

“No. I haven’t. Here try a bit of my drink it’s yummy.” Az sips the drink and I panic instantly.

I wasn’t thinking. Az is drinking my alcoholic drink and he’s a Muslim who doesn’t drink alcohol. I hope he’s not mad. One sip of Sangria won’t hurt him right?

“This tastes like alcohol,” Az says and he’s angry.

“I’m sorry I forgot. The sangria is delicious here. I’m in the habit of sharing a drink with a friend or family member if it tastes good. I didn’t mean to make you drink it.”

“You know I don’t drink.” Az replies.

“I’m sorry.” I tell him meaning it. But he doesn’t accept my apology.

He spends the next fifteen minutes brooding and giving me angry scowls. I didn’t think one sip of alcohol was that big of a deal religiously.

But for the next half-hour, Az is curt and rude. He says he’s not feeling well when I ask him what’s wrong. Az says he has a killer headache and wants to go home. He’s lying.

The waitress arrives arrives to apologize for our food being late. Az looks at me and I sigh and ask the waitress, “Can we please have our food to go. My boyfriend isn’t feeling well.”

“Yeah sure,” the waitress says. Five minutes later, I have our food packed up in a bag and we are heading back to my house. Az is driving as fast as he can.I don’t understand how he is so upset over one tiny sip.

“Are you okay?” I ask him.

“Do you think I’m okay? You gave me alcohol. I’m not allowed to drink alcohol.” Az says angrily.

“I didn’t mean it and I apologized. Your cousin gave you a sip or two of alcohol before and you didn’t get mad him like you are at me.” I said.

Az speeds up his car, racing me back to my house and barely stopping to let me out.

He grabs the bag of food thrusting it at me. “Here take all the food.”

“I don’t want the calamari,” I said. “It smells bad and no one in my house who is home, will eat it.”

Before Az can speak I take it out and put the calamari on the back seat of his car.

“Goodbye,” I say blandly, without looking at him as I slam his car door.

Inside, I’m fuming . To me a sip of liquor is such a tiny thing to become mad over and I never tried to make him drink the Sangria on purpose. I wasn’t thinking and I said sorry many times.

Az shouldn’t have ruined our entire Valentine’s Day because of his temper.

But that’s one reason why we broke up later on.


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.