What do you see # 65- January 18 2021
( For the visually challenged reader, this image shows an envelope hanging by a white tread. In the background there is a house entrance)
I pick up my skirt and run the half mile across the field
To the other side of the village forbidden to me by my father
Where I know Phillipe has hung out his letter to me
His handmade seal, a golden heart with a kiss
The red envelope is for my eyes only
The small brown one for my father, begging for an audience
He will again tell my father how much he loves me
How one day, he will make me his wife
He will be worthy to ask for my hand
I hide my letters where father cannot find them
In our church, the one place he will never set foot in
I give him the small brown envelope to hear another refusal
Over my dead body, he would say
I cry myself to sleep, waiting for the day we can do more
Than steal a few moments alone in our church
Where he will tell me his fortune is almost made
He will stand in from of his King, my father
and ask for my hand, no longer a pauper…
© Anita Dawes 2021
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