Pretty

I have been reading some of my poetry to my new friend Amanda, and this is her current favorite, so I am printing dedicating it to her and putting it where all of you as well can read it.

PRETTY

I inherited pretty…in the same way it was passed down to my mother.

It came softly in unspoken messages;

Subtle as summer breeze, so we hardly noticed

When it surrounded us and became a way of life.

We cultivated pretty…weeding out what was not,

Ruthless as any gardener,

Selectively nurturing the rose that might grow into a prize.

In our manner and dress, always agreeable, we became noticed.

Never really asking for permission, yet gaining entrance,

Pretty brought us what no amount of education or boldness ever could.

We collected “pretties” amassing things,

Gilding the cages that kept us from freedom;

The freedom of knowing who we really were

Or what we might become.

Pretty is an illusion, both theirs and ours.

Pretty seduced us in the same way we learned

To seduce the men we thought would liberate us,

And we both were deceived.

Pretty kept us prisoners,

Pretty always has a price.

Pretty is learning new definitions.

I notice women now, in this new century, and they are not so pretty.

They seem to be more honest,

And to know more about themselves and the world.

Pretty is as pretty feels!

Pretty is what we develop on the inside of each of us

Where it feels good and that is where it should be.

Look for it there.