Don’t usually do intros prior to posting my poetry or stories but this time I’ll make an exception.
I was recently told by a lovely lady named Phoebe that I’m so romantic that I even romanticise what she sees as the least romantic aspect of her: her condition, which is M.E.
M.E is a chronic condition which affects tiredness & the immune system. I’m going to be running a marathon in October on behalf of Action For M.E (the number one charity for the condition). If you’d like to learn more about the condition or sponsor me, you can do so by visiting my fund raising page at http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/PhilipCraddock. Alternatively, just read & hopefully enjoy the poem, which comes next.
As usual this is a work in progress piece. Perhaps appropriately I slept badly last night, so this poem may need a fair amount of editing to bring it up to scratch.
- Sleeping Beauty & M.E
He had danced & duelled with demons,
walked on a long eggshell strewn floor,
carefully climbed a steep stony staircase
to tremble nervously outside her door.
Would she, could she want him,
someone so damaged in the dark?
Dare he dream of light & love,
such sunny picnics in the park?
Finally he steeled himself,
reached out & turned the key.
Quite quietly opened her door
to see his sleeping beauty.
Her wheelchair creaked in the corner,
her brown bed was always single.
It’s hard to find someone to love
when you are too tired to mingle.
She snored softly, slept soundly,
medicine had granted such rest.
He sat down by her bedside,
heart beating in his chest.
He kissed her lips for the first time,
she opened her eyes (bright blue).
Her sweet smile was just for him
and he smiled back at her too.
He said: “I want to show you
how heavenly this world can be.
Such wonders to explore
beyond your door
will you come see them with me?
Hear howling monkeys in the jungle,
attend the grandest ball.
A world of pleasurable possibilities
and we can capture them all”.
She replied: “Yes, I will go with you!
But first I need a nap”.
She curled up closer to him,
lay her head on his lap.
As she slept once more,
his hands happily stroked her hair.
‘The best beauty in this wonderful world
is sleeping soundly there’.
Copyright © 2015 Philip Craddock. All rights reserved.