Artsieladie Sharon Donnelly | + Follow Poet |
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The Visit, Part I

("The Visit", Part I)

My name is Lemon, without the 'ade'.
Not for my colour though, hue or shade,
For I'm a pinto with brown and white,
Said to be pretty from distant sight.
But up close is a different matter
Or so it's said among human chatter.

My outlook on life is rather grim.
Seeing my sweet side is very slim.
As my name is indicative of,
I'm bitter, too sour for human Love.
Human hands have been unkind;
Have left me in this frame of mind.

Thus humans in general pass me by,
Care not to learn about the why
Or what brought me to my current state,
And made too fearful to change my fate.
My trust is gone, my spirit's broken.
Human abuse, neglect has left its token.

Although I'm now in a better place,
Where every human has a kinder face,
Memories rooted have made their bed,
Are overgrown and deep inside my head.
So, when human kindness comes my way,
I'm still trapped in my yesterday.

I long for the Love and the caring I see
Shown to my stall mates so liberally,
But there seems to be an invisible wall,
I feel so isolated inside my stall.
No human is willing to take the chance
To befriend me in my lonely circumstance.

But then one day my stall door opens wide
And a girl named Shelby slips through inside.
She has with her a book and a chair
And by the door she sits quietly there.
She says nothing to me as I roll my eyes,
Pin back my ears with my defensive disguise.

She just opens the book and starts to read,
Pays no mind, giving my 'tude not a heed.
With myself positioned against the farthest wall,
And what seemed like forever, as I do recall,
She sat quite still, read and munched a bit,
While I pawed and snorted and threw a fit.

But all of my antics she simply ignored,
As into her book, her attention she poured.
"Hmmm.. This is a human unlike all the rest,
Who hasn't run, although I've tried my best
To frighten her and to scare her away.
Yet, here she sits. Is she here to stay?"

Up until now I've been preoccupied 
With antics to cover my fear inside,
But now my defenses are slowly receding,
As a new feeling has begun proceeding.
I detect an aroma, my nose is seizing, 
One I vaguely remember, but so pleasing.

Now that my focus has been altered bunches,
I can hear, see, and smell, what on she crunches.
As my mouth waters at the sound and the smell,
I can't deny myself what I'd like as well.
Slowly, gingerly, I venture in her direction,
Pausing repeatedly still fearing rejection.

For the first time, she looks up from her reading
And she smiles at me with a friendly, warm greeting.
She pulls something out from the bag she's carrying,
Offers it to me but fear is toughest when burying.
Though my ears are pricked forward in anticipation,
There's rippling through me a strong sensation.

Like electrical shock waves, old memories ignite,
Seizing like demons to keep me trapped in fright.
Though I hear her voice beckoning, calling to me,
Old memories revived block out her kindness to see.
With ears pinned back and fear in the driving seat,
Back against the wall like before, I again retreat.

I watch her closely, expect her to leave,
As all humans have done because they believe
My behaviour depicts my nature as unruly and mean
And I'm quite sure she will too, flee the scene.
But the girl only resumes her former attention,
Reading as though there'd been no intervention.

I relax a little as I begin to wonder about why
She hasn't left me alone with a hasty goodbye.
Why she is still here I can't comprehend.
I'm starting to hope for a different trend
Than the one I've been living based in fear.
Can I really trust this human sitting here?

Though puzzled, perplexed, and confused no doubt,
Taking command, my curious nature pushes fear out.
Again, I move slowly towards the girl who's seated,
Convincing myself by fear I won't be defeated.
But this time and although I'm just inches away,
Reading still, no attention on me does she pay.

(Continued with "The Visit", Part II)

Written by Artsieladie/Sharon Donnelly 
©2018-09-04 16:17:00 (EDT)
All rights reserved.

Copyright © Artsieladie Sharon Donnelly | Year Posted 2018

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