Safekeeping
Safekeeping
She sewed pieces of eight
‘gainst the harshness of fate
into her muslin-lined bodice.
Then found that her breast
like an oak treasure chest
weighed heavy.
She walked with a bend,
clanked in the wind,
smelled of a grasping fist,
and always she feared
that if love came too near
it would lift her dubloons
as its levy.
So, long long before
she e’re met death’s door
she slept lone with arms
tightly crossed.
And cursed her harsh fate.
*******************
Here’s a rather silly little poem for wonderfully distilled Mama Zen’s challenge “words count” on With Real Toads. It is below 80 words and bounces off some usage of 8.
Tags: heavy breast poem, http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com, manicddaily, pieces of eight poem, Safekeeping, safekeeping poem, sewn up in bodice
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ManicDDaily 
September 12, 2013 at 9:49 pm
That’s a fascinating poem. A very stark picture. A very sad one, but very real.
September 12, 2013 at 9:53 pm
NICE.
I love the feel and tone of this.
A pirate’s life for me, always. This sways along beautifully.
September 12, 2013 at 11:13 pm
Love the on again off again rhyme scheme–works perfectly with the immaculate meter to keep the eye and ear happy–and I *really* love the fourth stanza–it just glows, as does the neatly sewn-up ending. Great needlework, Karin.
September 13, 2013 at 8:07 am
Just as well she never took a sea journey – I wouldn’t chance a fall into open water all kitted out in pieces of 8.
September 13, 2013 at 8:45 am
Ha. No. K.
September 13, 2013 at 10:06 am
A pirates life for me. Pieces of eight, only Elizabeth would put them in her bodice. Nicely done!
September 13, 2013 at 12:52 pm
Outstanding write! Like Hedge, I think the on again off again rhyme scheme really works well.
September 13, 2013 at 1:04 pm
Thanks so much, MZ. k.
September 13, 2013 at 9:03 pm
my grandma was a top notch seamstress and you’ve sewn her like a beautiful & perfect fitting garb on me with your exacting words!
September 13, 2013 at 9:21 pm
Liked this much, K
September 14, 2013 at 7:26 am
at least then she always has money for the boatman eh, when the time comes…def a harsh and lonely reality—but written nicely as far as flow….