Poetry

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Magdeline Cinderella

He came back
looking for me.
I left him with
my alabaster box.
Broke it.
Let out my perfume
for His holiness to inhale.
Because he was brave.
Because he was princely.
And because he struck
me in the heart
in that far unreachable place.
An instrument
no man knew how to play.
He tightened it’s strings
for us to make a beautiful sound.
So I dropped my box
then midnight came
and I ran back to my ragged life.
But he came looking for me,
my prince,
on his way to the high seat.
He stopped by
to dry my eyes
And now I know
my dream has/can come true.

H. Stone © 2005

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