Cassandra Of Cavendish Poem by Kay Devenish

Cassandra Of Cavendish

Rating: 2.5


Cassandra of Cavendish
sprints to the marketplace
air in her jogger shoes lifts her along,
Cassandra of Cavendish ever so giggleish,
hums to the music of yesterday's song.
Bouncing from medium
back to the stars again,
will not stay low or go down in the dumps.
No guy to hold her hand
thinks she can understand,
(Evolving is solving
and summing life’s bumps.)
Gazing at groceries,
lost in the specialties,
pushes her trolley as neat as a pin,
hair tied up in a knot,
dotty as polka dot,
Cassandra of Cavendish
never gives in.
Six dollar's all she's got,
thinks that will buy a lot,
all of it silver in five and ten cents,
Cassandra of Cavendish
feeling quite evilish,
passes the fistful for checkout's lament.
No body sees her blush,
roses already flush,
brushed with precision to brighten her face.
Bargains from yesterday,
quick sales to take away,
no food expires when she scanning such place.
Loaded with groceries,
lugging her bargain sprees,
cutting her fingers from weight of the load,
shimmies her way outside,
wishing she had a ride,
dragging her body toward the long road.
Can’t catch the bus back home,
carries it all alone,
she knows it’s better to walk than to drive,
never can own a car,
feet take her just as far,
Cassandra of Cavendish
lives to survive.
Walking will keep her fit,
she keeps believing it,
people with cars are the privileged half,
she doesn't need a gym,
struggle will keep her trim,
(if it weren't painful
she thinks she might laugh) .
Pushes her daughter’s swing,
runs ‘round the oval ring,
magpies swoop down and her brolly unfolds,
she takes it everywhere,
even if there's no glare,
(security crutch
but don't tell her I told.)
Magpies try pecking them,
brolly's protecting them,
Dog runs up barking,
so home they both charge,
panting and out of breath,
ranting from brush with death...
life is so funny when they are at large.
Watching their favorite shows,
both leaning on elbows,
lying in bed with their cookies from Mac,
dolls are just everywhere.
messy but they don’t care,
Cassandra and child of her
both hit the sack.
Cassandra of Cavendish
dreaming her every wish,
floating on rainbow
down market place isle,
daughter dreams bunny-friends,
chocolate that never ends,
both sleep contented in graceful beguile...
yes,
both dream contented
in graceful beguile,
Cassandra
and child of her
their face
full
of....smile.

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Kay Devenish

Kay Devenish

Australia
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