She, in Waiting

She pouts when her way is dismissed,
hisses when provoked,
and the shadow of her eyes disguise
the dark thinking she evokes,
and as she sits, alone yet attended,
I wonder what she’ll end up being,
when childhood does fade
and mature thoughts breach
her already fractious ways.

Skin pale as alabaster,
her eyes a luminous blue,
hair as reddened flames
yet her will a steely cold embodiment
of a fortress never doomed,
and as a child here questions odd,
for she seems to know more than feasible,
of humanity’s ache, of desires wake
and the needs of flesh and soul.

She plays with dolls of porcelain,
their rolling eyes so unnerving,
and speaks as if they are alive,
listening to their answers,
considering their view,
and names them from Greek mythology,
names a young girl could not know,
yet she sits for hours debating
the ways of man and gods.

And as she sits in waiting
for some unknown and disturbing purpose,
I see the little girl entombed
in a soul as yet to surface,
and pray she is but a phase of growth
and all will end up fine,
yet worry I do for eternity
if what I see is true,
and this woman in a girls flesh,
is yet to discover, renew.

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Tony DeLorger

Full time author, freelance writer, poet and blogger since 1999. Twenty one published works, past winner of 'Poet of the Year' on HubPages, 'Poem of the Year' on The Creative Exiles, writer for Allpoetry.com, Google+, tonydwtf.blogspot.com.au
videos on YouTube and book sales on website thoughtsforabeautifulmind.com, Amazon and digitalprintaustralia.com.au/bookstore

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