A Modern Take on Fairy Tales

I quit believing in fairy tales long ago.
These stories carry a promise of happiness
But baffle us when reality negates fantasy.

There are no glass slippers for these feet,
No magical delivery of an elegant gown
Spun from starlight by a fairy godmother.
I’ve never wandered the dark hallways
That lead to enchanted towers
Or alone through a haunted wood,
Basket of goodies in hand,
Anxiously listening for signs
Of a wolf stalking my footsteps.
An evil elf will never test my limits
In a sadistic guessing game.
Prince Charming and his meaningless gestures
Hold no substance behind the façade,
And kissing too many frogs
Only results in a trip to the free clinic.
I’ve never even seen a spinning wheel,
Much less pricked my finger on the spindle.
Singing in the forest to a gentle menagerie?
Housekeeping for seven short miners?
I don’t think so.

The drama in my life comes
From much more mundane sources,
My previous disappointments
Leaving an inherent lack of faith
And no drive to repeat an unhappy ending.

Still, sometimes, a random smile
Or an unexpectedly tender glance
Reminds me of my lost innocence,
Makes me wish upon my star
That someday, someone
Will make me believe again.


Note: This is my 200th posting here at Write Wing Conspiracy...can hardly believe it!

Aging Gracefully?

It’s a conspiracy, I tell you.   

It all started 

With a few crinkles 

Around the eyes 

(Laugh lines?  Do I look like I’m laughing?) 

They must have decided 

They liked the scenery 

And stuck around.

And they invited friends.  

Great.  

Then the occasional ache

In my weary bones,  

Growing more and more frequent, 

Until the creaks and groans 

Became my morning mantra 

When rising to face the day,

Every day.  

Great.  

And the hormones, 

The hormones,  

Oh my God, the hormones!

I’m too hot.

I’m too cold. 

I’m too hot.

I’m too cold. 

I need a new thermostat!  

And those mood swings 

Have me looking 

Not to my doctor 

But an exorcist 

For assistance. 

Great.  

Oh, that cruel joke of gravity, 

Converting body parts 

From perky to plummeting?  

Not funny.  

Not cool.   

Mother Nature and Father Time, 

The banes of my existence, 

I demand a map, 

A schedule, 

Something to help me navigate 

This minefield of aging gracefully.  

You’ll be right on that, right?  

Great.