Once upon a time
there was a curse given
to a girl born in the 80’s,
a shiny glass ceiling.
Her evil stepmothers
taught her to bow
and cross her legs respectfully,
but the girl read copiously,
lost her curse dancing
at a Pascha Party.
And when an old-fashioned
Kishi returned it to her feet
with a coriander bouquet,
he told her it was a window,
a looking glass, her perfect fit.
She seized her father’s axe
and shattered him and it.
Made a mirror ball from sinew and glass
fragments; now she’s free to dance
through floral fields,
ford and follow any stream
with her fairy friends.
A happily ever after,
but not the end.
NaPoWriMo#29~ In certain versions of classic fairytales, witches or fairies are invited to christenings and bring princesses gifts. One fairy/witch, however, is not invited, and in revenge for the insult, lays a curse on the princess. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem in which you muse on the gifts or curses at birth.
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
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