The sun was setting when
she finally arrived home…again.
Worn from miles upon the road,
stories unknown ‘bout her abode.
So many years it had been.
When first she’d set out upon
the long stretch of a life unknown,
she’d sparkled for her future vast
like a ball of sunshine being cast;
desiring her time in the fast zone.
But on some ill-forgotten day
her beloved decided they’d pull away
from decisions to journey quite far.
Trades made for a compact car.
No matter that she wanted to stay.
She never got over being
his first love, with whom he went fleeing
down the block or ‘cross countryside.
Back then, she always thought they’d abide.
She didn’t understand, no guaranteeing.
Years later, she heard his voice approaching!
Getting her back was the subject he was broaching.
He drew near, his hands felt manly rough
as he openly stroked her in the buff.
A lucid boundary he was encroaching!
She was surprised he looked so worn
as, today, his fingers caressed her body, torn.
When he arrived to pick her up,
towing her behind his old pickup truck,
there was no mistaking the look of forlorn.
So though she’ll shiver tonight,
she knows she’s fought the good fight.
Her only wish, always quite slim,
was to one day be reunited with him.
Somehow, the heavens got it right.
No sleep. He’ll lie awake instead,
dreaming young dreams in his head
of how he once traveled with a grand plan
in his shining, sparkly, virgin orange van.
Tomorrow, on his dream he’ll retread…
For she deserves to be restored,
as her quirkiness, he always adored.
And when it came to her very gender,
only she tread on his heart very tender.
Time to repay the old gal her reward.
When the sun rises one glorious morn,
she’ll purr like a kitten reborn.
His hands will have caressed and reshaped her,
held her firmly, redressed and redraped her.
From his grip, she’ll ne’er again be torn.
Of mention…he plans to install a cute horn.
This week’s line prompt at the Speakeasy was provided by Sandra Crook, the winner of speakeasy #102: “The sun was setting when she finally arrived home,” along with this photo prompt, of which some reference should be made.
A quick explanation of why my story’s in poetic form – I’ve committed to 30 days of poetic ponderings during the month of April for NaPoWriMo 2013. I don’t believe this goes against The Speakeasy’s submission guidelines. If so, then please inform me in a sonnet. I can’t imagine a better way of being admonished. 😉