My mother, a purist

My mother was a purist
Material aspects did not appeal to her
Life performed in traditional ways
Hair imperfect, unkempt, unkept
Clothes plain, unadorned, undecorated
Ever since I was a child
It seemed that she was happy this way
Then there was one night
This one night IĀ couldnt sleep so I searched the house
There she was
My single curious eye peering beyond the doorframe
She stared into the bathroom mirror
Face made different, scarlet lipstick, sapphire eyeshadow, smudged by desirous tears
One evening I played dress up
And searched within her wardrobe
There was a sequin dress, silky and wine stained
Hidden in the back
Stained with a sultry perfume that seemed so alien
Now twenty years have passedĀ and
My mother is a purist
Material aspects make her life
Life performed in unconventional ways
Hair pristine, impeccable, immaculate
Clothes unorthodox, unafraid, unapologetic
Ever since i was a child


◄ Pain in the ass

Sunrise ►


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Hannah Collins

Mon 12th Feb 2018 19:42

The secret world of our mothers.
Love this poem.


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Marc Hawkins

Sun 11th Feb 2018 23:26

Love this poem. Subtle yet descriptive. It dragged me in...I followed you on your house search. Great work.


<Deleted User> (13762)

Sun 11th Feb 2018 19:43

I felt compelled to read this a few times Freya, it caught and kept my attention, it asked questions but didn't necessarily answer them. It also left plenty of room for the reader to add their own story. Thanks for posting. Colin.

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