Where’s My Fairy Godmother?

©April 2013 Mimi Wolske

All Rights Reserved


Once, I was looking for my

Gilded cage on Princess Street

Courage and wit and awesome

Good looks that drew me in

Only to discover he was no prince,

He was a loveless dragon in life

Cormorants call in unison,

Abstract and so bird-clinical,

“Like beauty, leave your tower…”

Stupid, stupid flightless fowl

I tripped over love like a

Klutz trips over a shoelace too often

And it had me wondering why

His silence set me in the race to him

Affection was kept in a decorative gourd

To color a new sun set high in the sky

With petals blossoming and spilling

His love like a leprechaun’s gold—frugally

I found love and my

Gilded cage on Princess Street

He did steel himself like a thief

Like an incumbent lover discovered

With too many others  and I asked

If he was a brain or some kind of nut

Photographs with clarity could

Hold no image of my Prince Charming

Or the huskiness of his voice

Or his gentle touch when he loved me

Painted roses and proud horses

Surround me in the field of joy

And the showers fall like love

Overtaking all who look up

Love had me gathering memories

And found me questioning all if he was

Elusive because he spent his stolen

Pension for a good spot in the graveyard

Where’s my fairy godmother if not in a

Gilded cage on Princess Street

I wouldn’t give you ten thousand

Dollars for that look on his face

When I stood before him and

Uttered those words he’d never heard

He closed in and I could never

Close up not even in our

On-and-off-and-on again love

Our crazy, wonderful dramedy

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s