Prattle and Witter
Prattle And Witter
Midst rumours
and rustlings
And hastily
scribbled notes,
Upheavals
and bustlings
And endless
clichéd quotes.
Out of the chaos,
surprisingly calm,
Arrogant yet
sweetly coy,
With an air of
flamboyant charm
Emerges
a sequined boy.
He smiles
like a lady,
Proper, graceful
and defined,
In a corner,
quite shady,
With beauty
on her mind.
And the gossip
of fishwives
In their aprons
and strings,
Who scupper
people's lives
With unmentionable
things.
A dame
or a man?
And "well I never's"
bigots call,
But she listens
when he can
With an ear
to the wall.
Like a lady,
discreet,
Where no utterable
sound
Cannot sweep her
off his feet
Nor knock him
to the ground.
A nod, a wink,
and a blatant stare,
A tut, gesture
and a frown,
He glides oblivious,
unaware
She's the infamous talk
of the town.
And of love,
she is unsure
If to kiss him
or to tell
His unsuspecting
procure
That he's not really
a girl.
For when the lights
grow dim
And the audiences
fade,
His nakedness
will shine grim
In the reflection
of a blade.
In time
the prattle and witter
Like stone hearts
will destroy
The now
lacklustre glitter
Of someone's
innocent boy.
Copyright © Robert Horton | Year Posted 2015
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