ReContoured: She Muses An Ancient Legend

On the island of Kos

a long time ago,

a certain man earned his living

weaving sheer stockings

out of fine silk.

He wove them in a studio

that had no view of the world below;

in the large, single window---

the sun in its southern transit,

the stars that adorned the evening.

He wove those sheer silk stockings

as much for their perfect beauty

as for the perfect, curvaceous beauties

who purchased them with delight.

He said, once, the most perfect beauty

is a fuk=;some girl's delight in her

first pair of stockings,

without fear of envy,

without the fetter of shoes;

and the second is like it---

the first glimpse she has

of herself, in sheer silk stockings,

in the mirror . . . .

He wove them only

from the finest translucent silk;

and from the sheerness

arose a slight gleam

when the light was exactly right;

at the toes and heels,

a doubly woven opacity

his own invention, or variation,

preventative of snags, snarls, and runs.

He often thought of

their unshod, silk-sheathed footsteps

as the sound of gently breaking waves

against the sandy shore of a distant, calm sea;

or the flutter of an airborne leaf

upon the slightest breeze of

a cloudless summer afternoon;

and of young loves and young muses

(oh, homage, the poet Propertius),

dancing for joy upon the untrimmed lawns,

then drawing---upon their grass-stained bare feet;

upon their eager, grass-stained bare feet;

eager for the softness and sheerness of silk---

those finely woven stockings,

unbound by shoes or old maids' inhibitions.




Author's Notes/Comments: 

A parody of Amy Lowell's poem, "The Painter On Silk."

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Cascade's picture

This sounds like a wonderful

This sounds like a wonderful beginning of an expertly detailed and very interesting story of passion in every and love abound ! 

Starward's picture

Thank you so very much!

Thank you so very much!