Thursday, 10 March 2016

The Want of Need

Tis need the want of him begs her to stay
and she (coquette) upon tree bench she sits,
a spinster of the parish she, life’s play
a failing empty game of wiles and wits
to trick a chap into a life she fits. 
Her vain efforts naught but a comedy
as from majestic to absurd she flits.
Hapless, her quest brings naught but tragedy
(tis so no man of worth will meet her eye)
for she three decades long could not outsmart
his want his need for younger flesh.   A cry
a wail (for she now met with broken heart),
her tortured soul emits an awful moan,
and lost she casts her heart in coldest stone.

Anna :o]

Gayle at dVerse has us writing bouts-rimés and the words offered are: stay, sits, play, wits, fits, comedy, flits, tragedy, eye, smart, cry, heart, moan, stone.    Cheers Gayle.

Image:  Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

Artist:  William de Leftwich Dodge (1867-1935)


Jenny Woolf said...

It reminds me somehow of those old epitaphs you sometimes find in old graveyards. As always such a good piece

Glenn Buttkus said...

Tragic, honest, heart-felt--this piece captivates beyond the prompt words; nice work.

Anonymous said...

What a tragic tale you've created. Your imagination took off with this prompt - I hope this wasn't real ;-)

Sanaa Rizvi said...

Oh my lord! This is such stunning!!

Mary said...

Sadly, she has come upon the wrong men. In my heart I feel eventually her wait will be rewarded!

Sanaa Rizvi said...

Just* really beautifully done Anna :D

Grace said...

Well that ending was so tragic after all the waiting and playing the game of wiles and wits ~ Hope you are well Anna ~ Take care and have a wonderful week ~

Hannah said...

Bah...that man...he's not the right guy any way. A tragic tale indeed!

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

Tragic indeed!

Gayle Walters Rose said...

The want of need...that's a tough place to be. It may be scaring those men away. I loved your story of the spinster, always waiting and hoping that some man will want her...though only thirty! But of course in the old days...thirty was old. Poor dear.

Victoria said...

Great little character sketch, well-crafted.

brudberg said...

For me this could be written about a Miss Havusham... So sad when you cling to a perfection that never will come.

Petru Viljoen said...

The real sadness here is in those days it was almost the only option for a woman - to find herself a man, any man. Woe to those that couldn't.

Linda Kruschke said...

This is tragic and sad. Very nice use of the given words; you've penned a well-flowing piece.

Truedessa said...

Ah, the quest for happiness is not met perhaps, her values were too high no man of worth would meet her eye. A nice story/poem using the words.

ADDY said...

Wow. It flows beautifully and you have used all the words required. Brilliant.

radio head said...

Ooh, what a great title!

I love your poem. I almost forgot there was a word list.

kaykuala said...

How sad for a luckless lady! A clever way of expressions in your poem, Anna!


Anonymous said...

Your poem makes me want to laugh and cry: to laugh because I can imagine the art and guile a woman can use to attract a man (maybe from experience); to cry because for all her efforts, she failed to attract one. But the latter may be for her own good - the right man need no snaring and artifice.


Bryan Ens said...

The constant pursuit of something better leaves us empty handed in the end.

get homework online said...

The real sadness is that it was really the only option for woman. Thanks that nowadays we can express ourselves the way we want.

Kate Mia said...

A soUl oF wHole..
masculine and
feminine iN
can Love
hOld oF wE..:)