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Array
(
[sid] => 127756
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => A Rose for Sharon
[time] => 2006-11-02 20:37:30
[hometext] => Another piece inspired by working out at the 'Y.'P.D.C.
[bodytext] => Forgive as floored when a person openly hid behind their smile. She would make the face gesture but you could see the facades hollow. She works the register in a small chain-store and must routinely service little more than two hundred daily. I stood amid the isles and rushing tight quartered din fascination led to stalking her manner. Frugal lips never initiate the upward turn rather only in measured response would teeth sprout sharks skin as a cardboard cut-out. Few were agahst only two that I saw out of twenty were taken aback; they shouldered that look perhaps in dismay recognizing the striking pose but furrowed brows have no words. I stood waiting for the moment when her crafty eye aversion skills faltered she got a away with servicing the patrons without ever making contact. Her's was a wry lip turn that doesn't scream misanthropy but did leak contempt upon her souls bib for any to see. Tuning in to lock eyes I went to move my hand with the compensation necessary for the purpose and instead of reaching I just warmed and melted reading her name tag and saying "Thank You Sharon" complimenting the contagious radiant inviting her smiles reply. Her body stiffened, I could see the warm winds identifying the self forgotten ice under her veneer and in what was a weird pop and twist the frozen core could only move so far. Her teeth and mouth widened to clown mask proportions re-arming a calloused reflex, to the genuine "be happy" trigger. She was locked like a joker grasped by the will of the past. Tilting to turn her deliberate head to the cash-draw, sorting change. When she looked back I was glowing joyous hot, sustained and unwavering with the contagion of a giggling baby. She snapped into that stiff faced posture which actually pulled and hurt her back, I could see a ripple of grief in her. "Thanks" I spoke softly, fully releasing. "Have a great day" was the follow to turning away. Her hand moved to cover the pain in her neck as my mind shed tears of understanding to her soul sending The Rose of Hermes with tiny fluttering wings floating to her Reiki in spirit healing. I wondered what did it, what tormented her to hide behind a practiced hand held mask? Dedicated to the hope that we each remember the volumes of good feeling communicated in a shared smile and never loose, misplace, or let be corrupted this magnificent gift. AJPIII [comments] => 6 [counter] => 271 [topic] => 55 [informant] => yangdantien [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => dedicatedpoems )
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