A Red Dress

Poetry practice happened as it should on its daily  basis, but even trying to squeeze the pips of the day to post, I was foiled by a storm.  The internet would not play, pics would not upload, the format went squiffy. So I waited it out and in the early hours the signals steadied, the storm stopped gusting it away.

Such is the reality of life in rural Ireland. I am still old school with fountain pen, Quink and notebooks. But the digital post is an important part of the process,too.  Bit it does not always go to plan.

Today’s offering posted was actually sparked by an item arriving in the post.

A Red Dress

Is meant to inspire confidence,
to gird your loins
donning battle dress
in every sense.

It’s a flag,
a declaration of independence.
It’s no way a surrender
so get off that picket fence.

And I surely like purples,
and  all the teals and green,
but wearing red with a slick of lippy
makes a clear difference

So howdy, Emma Goldman!
I’ve got the dress to dance.
Let’s go make that revolution.
Let’s go plot our deliverance.

Copyright 2018 Bee Smith