Sunday, 11 May 2014


Of course you should be so ashamed - you say
you have no cause. But see, your heart tells all,
your eyes have only one escape, they run
to hide out in his shape, his image fine,
on stage, on screen - on fire your heart leaps out
and blushes cheeks, betrays your need, lights up
your eyes and lifts your smile. But you belong
not to this sprite but to your own real life,
your own are left to wait their turn while you
spend hours devoted, solely, to his face,
in secret, hiding all you do from those
whose care, delayed, costs more than time can mend.
He captivates and holds your gaze, each move
you follow, diligently search for more
of those few words and frames that melt your heart
and hold them close, his beauty without art.

©Mary Parker 2014