The Trappings

I pick the trappings
I picked the trapping
Without humour, without thought
I took the gem, I took the man - it was the dream I'd sought.

I thought I ought, I thought I ought
To hasten to the trappings
And though I fought, and though he fought
We both laced up the fastenings.

I shuddered not, I dared not stop
To ponder on the longings:
For different life: unwedded wife,
To have not these belongings.

But by and by
The sands of time
Buried the wistful longings

And time was cruel
And time was kind -

When trappings bind, they also blind,

With no more me left behind
There's no more me left to find.

- Amelia


Amelia used to write all the time but one day stopped. Now she's trying to find her voice again, no matter how unremarkable or commonplace it may seem among the crowd. Her poems are part of a yearlong project to hit 100 pieces of writing - the hope is that in seeking quantity, somehow, quality will be found too

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