Friday, November 27, 2009


Always they talk about my hair
Long curls spun from the sun
Easily I was lost in the woods
Looking for flowers for Mother
The smell of porridge was so inviting
I knocked and there was no answer
I tried the door, I know it was wrong
Into the house I went undaunted
The smell of sweet honey and oats
Reminded me I had not eaten
A little taste could not hurt
Sated I needed a rest
How could I know it was not
Strong enough to hold me
A nap was needed before
I went back into the woods
They woke me, growling
Frightened I ran out of the house
Out of the woods I found my
Way back to my home
Mother punished me and said
I was lying when I told her
Of the house in the middle of
The woods, too many fairy stories
Is what she said, time to grow up
Bears do not live in houses,
Wolves do not speak to little girls lost
No prince would choose a peasant
So I faced the reality of my life
Where fairy godmothers do not grant wishes
And peasant girls like me grow
Into farmers’ wives and barmaids
And raise little peasant girls and boys
To take our places when we move on

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