A true tale from the poet’s twenties

*****

Recorded Reading (4:11): https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/wowvdo7bqamp8y0vjrk58/The-Red-and-White-Ball.mp3?rlkey=4bnk6wgudvbxjjbp4op6681fi&dl=0

*****

The Red and White Ball

She was a healer, so was he
And they both worked on healing me
Of whatever the matter be
Which had me going limpingly

Through a life beset with pain
Large effort for much smaller gain
Injustices of to complain
Too much misfortune seemed to come to me

In their keen ken spiritual
My aura was of shadows full
They worked to out those shadows pull
Let clarity remain

I have so much to thank them for
They took much less and gave much more
Than people I had known before
They lived the Golden Rule

When called to in Sedona be
Their sweet piano came to me
With which to study theory
And compositions score

And that piano played its part
Admirably right from the start
For it was yet state of the art
Though from the ‘forties be

Before they left, her closet oped
She inside its recesses groped
Again gave more than I had hoped
For, lovely clothes apart,

She also gave a prophecy
Took five more years to come to be
When you hear of it you will see
And wonder how I coped

With the sheer astonishment
Which clearly I was fully meant
To feel when I saw how it went
Eventually

She said “I see you, future in,
Prepare performance to begin
A Valentine’s event within ~
For this these two were sent:

This little white eyeletted shirt
Atop this bright red peasant skirt ~
Around you there be watchers girt
Whose wonder you will win…”

At that time of my life there were
Few audiences to prefer
That to which mere I might refer
With fame I did not flirt

The clothes bore noticeable lack,
As well, of fashionable knack
They went all the way to the back
Of my clothes closet, as you might infer

Remaining there through passing years
Through little triumphs, many tears
The future turned its patient gears
They hung there on that rack

And then one day I got a call
I hadn’t expected at all:
They planning were a formal ball ~
An audience of peers

Of which one of their docents had
Made their committee very glad
When she to they the tidings bade:
A sonnet writer was, withall,

Locally available
Of quality commendable
Disposition amenable
(Though, like all poets, mad!)

They commissioned series of
Seven sonnets writ of love
As the forecasted day behove ~
As well, it would be laudable

If I might on their Steinway Grand
Put the talent of my hand
And might they dare, as well, command
An hour orig’nal compositions of?

They wished me to appear that night
For the attendees’ delight
Opposite Shakespeare’s to recite
Love sonnets I already had at hand,

Perform them their new series, then
Begin piano music when
Diners began to rise again
noAs ending to the night

“Oh, one more thing,” the lady said
“Before we put this plan to bed:
We want you dressed in white and red —
And not look like a guest…”

You very well may doubt, forsooth,
This poet’s telling of the truth
It happened in this very youth
Exactly as ’twas said

At the Crocker Gallery
Oldest in the West there be
Filled most full with history
That night — I played my best!

*****

Until removal of the stalker/targeter/vandal/arsonist following her allows her to approach any landlord ~ even for a private parking space ~ and to begin once again to create professional connections and to rebuild her life, this poet presently lives homeless and at a fraction of her nation’s poverty level ~ still working seven days a week to contribute to her society, however.

Arts patrons may visit http://www.UgiftABLE.com , using code #72D-31S, or choose to send a personal check to the poet’s ABLE account. It takes about two weeks for the poet to be notified of your patronage.

Thank you for supporting quality in the fine arts.