once upon a long ago time
a little boy lost his mother
“What does she look like?”
“She’s the most beautiful woman in the world!”
Townspeople lined up
to be scrutinized by the lad
the elders walked him to
each and every
young
vibrant
young
woman
“No, not she. My mother is the
MOST beautiful woman in the world!”
“Alas, son, there is no other
the beauties have all been seen.
The boy gazed toward the edge of town
where sat an old woman
wrinkled, grayed, bent
“There!” he cried. “There is my mother
the most beautiful woman
in the world!”
—————-
VV’s prompt this last week of Poetry Month was PRETTY and there is an amazing slam poet highlighted for the week. I hope you will go over and listen to that.
This is a tale I heard in grade school. I think the nuns were trying to teach us that pretty is as pretty does – or that beauty is truly what is INSIDE the heart and not outside the body. At any rate, the gist of the story has stuck with me alllllllll these long and many years. Now that I am older, grayer, bent with my own years, I hope that any beauty in my heart can overshadow all that.
btw – just peeking in from Texas where I am visiting some elderly relatives and meeting up with some long-time on-line friends. Back to AK and reality towards the end of the week. Hope y’all (heh) are doing well.
