In brief, composed and pinned to this spot, for the story is so old,
and nothing but cleanly and pure in prose allegory:
Once upon a time, there was a limpid, longing, female line.
She wished to serve all of humankind.
She needed someone strong and stiff to tie
Herself to him, so both could reach toward sky
(to let the garments of all humans dry in the pure breezes and sanitizing sun).
She asked of the pole, "won't you secure me to your heights?"
He answered without a word, and with no fright:
"Tie yourself unto me, atop my tallest spire
And I shall hold you tightly, dear, and dry away all tears
As the wind shall always blow, and rains may come or go,
I pledge my strength and pole-stiffness to hold your load from low
Hanging, drooping to the ground, where clothes would become dirt.
I am your necessary mate; and from you I'll not flirt."
She was most indebted to the pole, for she was sure
That the two of them would bear more weight
Than only one of them secures.
So, the marriage of the clothesline to the pole
Was, in truth, a story, lasting: lesson: to be bold:
never act alone in life, for then you will be stumped
By all the hazards of this world: your laundry will be dumped!
And so, in mating rituals, we all know all too well:
The pole and limp-y line, together, always would entwine
To make a team of marriage, of love, of linens, fine.
~~~~~~~~~~
(insta-re-pome-semi prose, composed in-post, most imperfect/rough yet,
so to speak)
______________erase if this is "wrong" for this or any writers' board?
I will make no waves here, not at all. Use hot water, soap, and sunlight?
_______________________
and nothing but cleanly and pure in prose allegory:
Once upon a time, there was a limpid, longing, female line.
She wished to serve all of humankind.
She needed someone strong and stiff to tie
Herself to him, so both could reach toward sky
(to let the garments of all humans dry in the pure breezes and sanitizing sun).
She asked of the pole, "won't you secure me to your heights?"
He answered without a word, and with no fright:
"Tie yourself unto me, atop my tallest spire
And I shall hold you tightly, dear, and dry away all tears
As the wind shall always blow, and rains may come or go,
I pledge my strength and pole-stiffness to hold your load from low
Hanging, drooping to the ground, where clothes would become dirt.
I am your necessary mate; and from you I'll not flirt."
She was most indebted to the pole, for she was sure
That the two of them would bear more weight
Than only one of them secures.
So, the marriage of the clothesline to the pole
Was, in truth, a story, lasting: lesson: to be bold:
never act alone in life, for then you will be stumped
By all the hazards of this world: your laundry will be dumped!
And so, in mating rituals, we all know all too well:
The pole and limp-y line, together, always would entwine
To make a team of marriage, of love, of linens, fine.
~~~~~~~~~~
(insta-re-pome-semi prose, composed in-post, most imperfect/rough yet,
so to speak)
______________erase if this is "wrong" for this or any writers' board?
I will make no waves here, not at all. Use hot water, soap, and sunlight?
_______________________
