Contact Us      
         Join today or login
You are using an outdated version. Writing will not be shown properly in many cases. Click here to use the current version.

Status

New Here?
Sign Up
Fast! Three Questions.

Already a member?
Login


Contests

20 Word Poem
Deadline: Today!

Rhyming Poem
Deadline: In 6 Days

Loop Poetry Contest
Deadline: Oct 25th

My Faith
Deadline: Oct 30th

Halloween Flash Fiction
Deadline: Oct 31st


Rank

Poet: None
Author: None
Novel: None
Reviewer:None
Votes: None





 Category:  General Poetry
  Posted: July 10, 2020      Views: 19
Chapters:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12... 

Print It
Print It
Save to Bookcase
View Reviews
Rate This
Make Reader Pick
Promote This


 BENNY BEEHARRY 
IN PRINT 


 ABOUT
BENNY BEEHARRY 
I live in London.
I like writing poetry


Portfolio | Become A Fan
Excellent
Not yet exceptional. When the exceptional rating is reached this is highlighted

Chapter 8 of the book Book of Poetry
Prickly beautiful flowers
"Bushes of old girls" by Benny Beeharry
They were prickly and thorny
Vicious
And virulently dark green.

But their blooms, of all colours
In clusters of yellow, red, white
Mixed yellow and red.

I loved them for the forbidden silence
That surrounded them
And the bees they attracted.

I often wondered at the amount of honeyed sweetness
That is lodged in their heart
That spun the bees in frenzy in the pleasant sunshine.
They are wrong who say that evil comes from the heart.

So I did not hate them.
Never!
It is wisdom told by nature.

On my adventures in the village woodland,
I did get scarred though
And scratched, but I did not cease, like bees
to sip honey from the hearts of their dazzling colours.

I used to enjoy this name,
Old girls,
A bit hurting though
As old unmarried women in the village were called old girls.

Not all of them were prickly
Or forbidding,
they chatted and giggled round the village well
And turned the children's games and laughs into electric pastimes.

At weddings,
No inhibitions, no problems
The first to cackle with jolly laughters,
Bare foot, skirts trussed up dancing,

Eyes glinting and filled with fun
like the water of translucent streams,
Shone with clean sincerity and abundance,
the first to start the carnivals, balls and jigging.
No one else dared!

They were not prickly either,
I thoroughly enjoyed the noise
The songs and tambourines,
The wildness in their dances and movements.

I wonder now
why like the other village girls they did not settle down.
That is the tragedy.

So much love,
Sheer bubbling sincerity and gaiety
Halos of infinite friendliness gone to waste.
Not a trace of pricks and pins like the wild bushes,
And yet failed to attract lasting friendship.

The mistakes were not in their beautiful sense of freedom,
Their sincere friendship
Or open heartiness,
But in the freakish judgement of the villagers
Whose price for empty ridiculous vanity the old girls paid.


The book continues with The Book of life. We will provide a link to it when you review this below.

Author Notes
Thank you so much supergold
Pays one point and 2 member cents. Artwork by supergold at FanArtReview.com

Share or Bookmark
Print It Print It Save to Bookcase View Reviews Make Reader Pick Promote This
© Copyright 2016. Benny Beeharry All rights reserved.
Benny Beeharry has granted FanStory.com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

You need to login or register to write reviews.

It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.

Interested in posting your own writing online? Click here to find out more.



Write a story or poem and submit your work to receive reviews on your writing. Publish short stories on our book writing site and enter the monthly contests. Guaranteed reviews for everything you write and you will be ranked. Information.


  Contact Us

© 2016 FanStory.com, Inc. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Statement