Poetry 2

Poetry (Part 2)

I meandered to the side, near my favourite plant, keeping an eye on Genevieve as well as the fishy crackers. I waited for an opportunity to sidle up to the table and help myself to one of those. Or two.

I returned, hiding a smirk, and bit into the salmon cracker, washing crumbs down with minuscule sips of prosecco. I had to leave some for the toast. I could see Sarah-Jane in her moss green cloth creation. She was in the bay window, her fake nails reflecting odd rays of green and red from the window behind her. Her hair colour was equally fake, and the past-their-use-by-date carrot coloured curls were heaped on top of her head like a Specs advert.

Sarah-Jane had large, soulful eyes, her eyelashes competing with the length of her poems. Genevieve came over and stood next to me. She popped a salmon cracker in her mouth, and I looked away, then choked on mine as I noticed her stork-impression. “I love you shoes,” I said, blinking innocently, “they go well with your dress.” I crossed my fingers underneath my plate, glancing anxiously out of the large windows. I wasn’t expecting thunder, so I felt safe enough.

Butterflies…

Sarah-Jane put her plate down, took a sip of water, and smiled at Livy. Cue little silver bell. I sighed and looked regretfully at my prosecco. There was just enough for a toast. I tried to spot the tray; there might be spare glasses. Before I could move, Livy said, “We’re so thrilled that Sarah-Jane has agreed to read another one of her poems.” I rolled my eyes at my nearly-empty plate. She made it sound as if Sarah-Jane needed to be begged. “We’re so looking forward to this one, Sarah-Jane, so over to you, hun,” and she waved Sarah-Jane forward.

Sarah-Jane smiled, fluttered her fake eyelashes, and I muttered, “don’t move them too much, they’ll fall off!” Sarah-Jane closed her eyes for a moment and took a long, steadying breath. Her words came, with the speed of a glacier, and just as unstoppable.

Social Butterfly (I gritted my teeth at the enthusiastic gasp next to me).

Darkness around you
but not in your soul.
Your hair like intricate lines
Clinging, drawing you
to other souls
close by, yet far.
You reach out with words
and your breath
pulls their spirits
towards you.
We look at you,
your zest for life
like a wave
carrying us towards the shores
of wonder and togetherness.
Your colourful soul
like a butterfly
it feeds and shares
and makes us adore you.
You draw us in
the way you sway
from one wallflower to another.
Sweetness and kindness
in your fingers
encircling us.
We watch you
and follow you
never able to achieve
your heights.
A social butterfly
your wings encompassing us
in silks and lace.

You help us soar
and float reaching for the sky.
We cling to our dark walls no longer
but join you in the light.
You flutter, moving the air
with your passion and love
for all things living
and we merely glide along
high and far
forgetfulness
Darkness
soul.

She stopped and actually curtsied. I could hear Genevieve swoon, whilst swapping feet; the glass beads glistening aquamarine and lilac.  We applauded, one-handed in my case. Livy, her face glowing, raised her glass, and I yawned into mine before raising it with the others.

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