My skin prickles, my eyes glisten
Turning my head, following its trajectory
crab-like it crawls towards the door
following its slithery tail
Out of reach but glinting still

Disappearing round the door
Outside the smack of the sun glares
Unable to focus clearly, I stumble on

Cinnamon, Sandalwood and lime
Assail me urging me on
Candles – she’s made candles
A fine dress, curtains, decoupage and murals
All brilliantly hand-made
Is there nothing she cannot do?

Sprawling down the front of an up-scaled cupboard
Mucha’s resplendent women
stare out triumphant in their beauty
A panoply of skills I do not have

Others look on and ooh and aah
And point and touch

As if that were not enough
Perfect life, perfect children
Slithering, twisting, glinting green
Still I follow

The sun bathes my skin
I feel its sweet caress

Somewhere gentle water ripples
Murmurings from time immemorial
‘Nothing is ever as it seems.’
Celebrate what you can do
And be grateful

Myrna Moore

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One Response to Envy

  1. Eileen M Palmer says:

    What a beautifully crafted poem. Really liked this.

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