This poem was inspired by the rather ridiculous bit of folklore which states that on 29th February of a Leap year (when else!), a woman is “allowed” to propose to a man without being considered something of a harlot… Yes, I realise this poem is a tad late in the day, but hey, it’s a little light-hearted narrative of how one woman might have journeyed through the day…
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Leap
I leapt. I leapt.
As the calendar decreed I could.
As a woman. That day. I would
give patience my middle finger
and him my third,
left hand.
So I leapt. I leapt.
I closed my eyes and curled
up my courage in my toes,
a large glass of wine and a
long-held breath.
“Will you…?”
He had his headphones on.
No matter. There was time
and I would not lose my nerve.
Not accept a destiny to be left,
rejected Havisham, disaffected
on the shelf, cracked and dusty
like an old mug, a crusty old maid.
My self-worth would not allow it.
I would not swerve from my purpose, so…
Lemming perched on the ledge, nearly midnight,
last chance for four years, tradition alleges…
I leapt. I leapt.
In the dark of our bed, I crept
closer in, squeezing his hand
to my chest, my head buzzing,
my lips to his ear.
“Will you…?” You know the rest.
Yes, I leapt. I leapt. But…
He slept right through it. I was
swept dry with it: empty-mouthed,
words dissolving in ears deaf
to my attention, like I’d just rolled over
to mention we’d run out of teabags.
I had leapt… in the dark
to nothing… a leper needing a hug,
except…
I can leap on him any day…
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For my own personal views on the subject (if you’ve not already guessed), I would refer you to this delightful blog post on the same theme, with which I entirely concur.
(And for some reason WP doesn’t want the link to work, but if you want to paste to your browser, it’s there and definitely worth it, I promise…)
http://alisonmay.wordpress.com/2012/03/01/in-which-i-express-extreme-gratitude-on-behalf-of-all-the-ladies-at-being-permitted-to-act-on-our-own-will-once-every-four-years/
That link in a more clickable format!
Love and leprosy — only you, Holly, can make those two topics work well together
Over here across the Great Pond, it’s called Sadie Hawkins Day,
Sadie Hawkins was the homeliest gal in all of Arkansas. Her father, Hekzebiah Hawkins, out of desperation in fear his daughter was going to become an old spinster arranged for all the eligible bachelors of Dogpatch to take place in a foot race. Sadie would be in hot pursuit and the one caught would become her husband. The day of the race was called Sadie Hawkins Day.
By the late 1930s this concept was sweeping the nation and Sadie Hawkins Day was becoming an annual national tradition. By 1939, Life magazine reported over 200 colleges holding Sadie Hawkins Day events. At that time Sadie Hawkins Day was held in November As the years passed, Leap Day became Sadie Hawkins Day. Though any event taking place in which the woman initiates the invite is referred to as a Sadie Hawkins event (e.g. Sadie Hawkins dance, social, etc.)
But hey, why stand on tradition? If you see a guy you want, go for it.
Good work, conjured up many images for me, and made me think.
Good grief! You learn something every day! Poor Sadie – how damned humiliating… I know these traditions aren’t to be taken seriously, but god, these things raise my “hackles of equality”.
As to love and leprosy – I think I got a bit carried away, having too much fun with my internal rhymes there, as not sure that line sits quite right. But hey, it’s quirky, so for now, it gets to stay.
A fine offering here my friend and what a leap
Your link will work if you move the text…
in-which-i-express-extreme-gratitude-on-behalf-of-all-the-ladies-at-being-permitted-to-act-on-our-own-will-once-every-four-years/
leaving the link on it’s own should work I think?
Have a fine Monday Holly
Androgoth Xx
No… strike that, your link
works just fine I just tried it
Androgoth Xx
Cool – thanks Androgoth.
Oh, the irony … tradition meets contemporary woman and the second wins – yay! x
“We are women – hear us roar!” lol.
You are just the best Holly!!
Thanks Willow.
Holy, HollyAnne!! This is BEAUTIFUL and depressing and I can relate to the feeling in this one so incredibly, my perception of it anyways! Thanks for sharing. I love your talent.
Yes, it is pretty depressing isn’t it! lol. Friends are often surprised if I feel the need to share the words “I’ve written a happy poem!” And I have to tell someone if I have, because it’s a shock to me too!
Oh my gosh!! I know that feeling. My friends are like…I love your writing but can you write something happy…most of the time I tell them that I seriously don’t know how to do that. LOL…but sometimes something magical and spiritual comes out that is pretty….and somehow manages to still be depressing.
Lol. But I think that’s all open to interpretation isn’t it? Sometimes a poem is very literal and can be read that way, but another reader might take a completely different meaning away from it: that’s something that never ceases to amaze me!
I have an anthology on my bookshelf which was bought for me by a friend entitled “Happy Poems” – it has a photo of people jumping for joy on the front. So, these days I do try to write something on positives now and then – either in a rush of “whooo!!!” or as a writing challenge…. But it’s a big surprise when they work!
And yes, I do think some of your poems have a reflective and spiritual side to them. The calm between the riots…