Open Poetry #14 |
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Lasting Effects Of A Catholic Boyhood |
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Heartstarter Junior Member
since 2001-03-14
Posts 39 |
The bathroom of our rented bungalow was laid with dark pink Italian tile, each trimmed with lavender, bordered all around with alternating squares; yellow, blue, occasional red, like arched cathedral mosaics. It boasted a naked door at the south end, comprised of rippled glass and clear views. The sun spilled it's warmth through the panes, bright and unencumbered until well past noon; and the tiles would sweat their sympathy for the summer day. An ancient tub with balled claw feet crouched huge and gleaming opposite the door. It supported a rack of circular brass, and from it hung a curtain of shiny mesh. When the afternoon sun gave it face, it glowed as if gilded. On the last morning of our rented summer, I happened past the door, just as she stood from a bath, wearing water beads like diamonds. Her body was clouded by steam that rose in smoky tendrils and curled around the room like incense at mass. She raised her arms to part the curtain, a slender span of sable wings, her head haloed by dripping ringlets; and when the gilding rays found the sparkling crown, She became the Angel Of Annunciation, bearer of Blessed Bliss, stained glass seraph of my youth. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
This is most certainly a heartstarter.... |
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Sven![]() ![]()
since 1999-11-23
Posts 14937East Lansing, MI USA |
well done. . . a memory well spoken. . . ------------------------------------------------------------- To the world, you may only be one person. But to one person, you may be the world. |
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Heartstarter Junior Member
since 2001-03-14
Posts 39 |
Thank you both!! |
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