Mr Tumnus is not here

Every morning I go through the wardrobe
And emerge on the other side

Covered in suitable layers of clothes and makeup
A drop of perfume to mask my scent

Mr Tumnus does not meet me, but a line
Of other wardrobe travellers, waiting for the bus

We board the bus in silence, and the driver greets us
With a knowing grin as we take our usual places

I look out the window at the fields and trees
As we pass from middle of nowhere to some other place

Not a lion roaring, but the monotone drone of the bus
No wicked witch, no endearing faun

No mighty swords, no elves, not even wolves
Because the hunters killed them all

We spill out the bus in a city waking up
Surreptitiously checking our reflection in windows

To make sure our features are still in place
And that we will blend in, yet another day

The street, the keys, the door, the room
Cue the smile and the hello

No magic, no heroics, no prince, just a woman
Quite middle-aged, arriving at her desk.








Poetry by Åsa Andersson
Read 786 times
Written on 2015-05-02 at 08:26

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Wumbulu
I just reread this and it's better the second time around...haunts me...entwining itself with my memories...my mother comes to mind so dedicated and so tragic...
2015-06-19


Wumbulu
Eliot goose-bumps...wow!
2015-06-12


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
No magic, no heroics, no prince, just a woman
Quite middle-aged, arriving at her desk.

and molding the mundane into a wonderful poem. I really enjoyed this.
2015-05-03



an eerie little tale, i enjoyed it
2015-05-03


Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
This was such a pleasure to read. I would so love to have magic, elves and knights with swords in my working day. I think we are in the wrong universe :)
2015-05-03


shells
You've made the sense of ordinary, extraordinary, brilliant, love it
2015-05-03


Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
Good writing, reminds me a bit of
Elliots The Love song Of Alfred J Prufrock in a free association kind of way.
2015-05-02


one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
this seem sad and not sad, but magical as a poem.

i guess dreams don't come true
2015-05-02


jim The PoetBay support member heart!
It is heroic to get on the bus, to do what has to be done every day. It would be a thousand times easier not to get on the bus.

& not "mask," rather "enhance, complement." N'est-ce pas?

Couplets are very satisfying.
Yes they are.
2015-05-02


countryfog The PoetBay support member heart!
I love how you set the scene with the reference to The Witch In The Wardrobe, how for the rest of us it's not a passage to Narnia but into the commonplace of a usual day. Very original and, more important, it works.
2015-05-02