Finely cut crystal –
silver and gold –
sparkle and entice.
A table fit for royalty.
Savoury aromas evoke visions
of sumptuous gravy,
delectable roast,
crisp-cooked vegetables,
and decadent desserts.
She’d stop to admire her handiwork,
but the children, hungry
and bored with the waiting,
tug at her hem.
Waiting.
It is her greatest strength.
Prepare, prepare,
then wait.
They’ll arrive shortly, noisily
full of their days,
fail to remark on the preparations
They’ll sit
be served
praise the deliciousness
gobble up seconds
push back their chairs
wander off
for a kip
or a smoke
and she’ll linger
picking at congealed gravy- covered mashed
unconsciously dabbing at a red wine stain
and marvel at how she accomplished it all
without bitching
without protesting
a trouper till the end
What’s that you say?
She’s sounding a bit like the martyr?
Oh no, you’ve found her out.
Superwoman has a dark side.
(This was originally penned a few years back, and I resubmitting it here, edited, for Twenty Four’s 50 word Thursday. Photo is courtesy of Deb Whittam as part of her prompt.)
I can completely relate to this experience most holidays and special gatherings. I take comfort in the fact that we enable people to come together 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, there is truth in that… and it’s so good to have them near.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I just wish that by the time all were gathered I was not so knackered, but see those I love happy usually gives me a second wind!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Me too! Actually I wrote this after the onset of debilitating disease, and I couldn’t even cook for myself. It made me really examine life. Now, either my daughters host, or we do potluck.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I can very much relate to that experience. I had a brush with illness and it caused me to re-evaluate my needs, boundaries and priorities and in many ways was a powerful teacher.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sure is.
LikeLike
and her dark side is what keeps her living on a different rhythm for the days when she has to be her best even though she does not feel like it. i feel like that at holidays, tired from the cooking but happy to see the mess, and everyone gathered
LikeLiked by 2 people
This was actually part 2 of another poem illustrating how much women do as part of their role. Lucky for me, my girls now play hostess and we do pot luck.
LikeLiked by 1 person
sounds like a better plan for the holidays
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love this, it matches my mood exactly this week.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Overworked, under appreciated?
LikeLiked by 1 person
My panic wasn’t appreciated, that was for sure 😑
LikeLiked by 1 person
Superwoman isn’t supposed to panic, lol. Hope things have calmed down
LikeLike
Wonderful take VJ. It reminds of my gandma’s generation when the girls were brought up for being “martyr” and feeling proud.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes…this is my generation…and I am a Grandma.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hahaha! I didn’t realize that you are talking about recent times.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ha ha ha – no worries. Hard to know ages when conversing on line.
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂 I thought it’s a piece of fiction 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
You are correct, although fiction based on experience.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Fabulous! Waiting IS a strength … and truly can make one feel like a martyr. The more we do, the more we are expected to keep doing …
LikeLiked by 2 people
and taken for granted…sigh…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Interesting piece – and timely as some might see this connecting to a thangivijg feast! Ha
And where is the picture from? Just curious
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks! Sorry …the picture is from the prompt.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well that is still
Cool
LikeLiked by 1 person