Like garments they lay upon themselves,
our past, our hidden, pain and wounds.
Making it their own, for a time and a time,
that all, may see and know of,
this so audacious crime.
Where man has laid his hand,
his fists, his smile turned to snarling lip.
His compliment turned to hateful quip
Yet these are no ordinary maidens and girls,
as I have found, as the Play unfurls.
Willowy, bright, sensitive, shocked,
as we shared tea and cake
and our, souls they clocked.
Coffee and Karma,
Bread and Butter of Drama
Each with a foot in our shoe,
they move into space…..
where we hide the glue.
Laughter, Panic, Normal or Manic
Making it through, as women, do.
Thank you for accepting, broken though I/we may be,
Thank you, that you chose to see, the real, me.
Thank you for caring if even only for one day,
Harriett E. Jarvis-Hoppe 🙂 18/09/2014
Thank you is all, my heart can say.