Her bedroom is a round bouquet,
fragrant, feminine hideaway
where a sultry stunner nightly ‘scapes
the boisterous swordplay of the day.
Ruby pout, a southern belle,
she practices a stoic stare
as comb untangles candlelit curls,
red ribbon falls from local fair.
A budding branch by babbling brook.
A locket her ex-lover took.
A cliffside meeting in a storm.
A coat to keep her bosom warm.
Baby’s breath halo on her knee,
a crown of fertile forestry,
she’s writing romance by the sea,
my alter-ego, Katie Hartley.
NaPoWriMo#8 prompts us to create a poem from the perspective of our alter-ego. So, I offer you a little glimpse of Katie Hartley, southern belle romance writer. Maybe she’ll be less bashful now that I’ve introduced her, and come on out and share a little story with all my sugah pie readers sometime soon.
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
Great depiction of your writer’s doppelgänger here – the short punchy lines paint a really vivid emotional picture! ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
Why thank you, Tom. She’s always around wanting to write a harlequin novel. 😂Oh, I let her out every now and again, but really she’s so dramatic. 😂
LikeLiked by 1 person
We need to know more about this young lady.
LikeLiked by 1 person
For you, dear friend, I’ll ask her a few questions. She does tend to ramble on so, then build up a dust storm of a drama. What would you like to know? 😂😂
LikeLiked by 1 person
A drama queen eh. What floats her boat or annoys her would be a good start. Usually a measure in there somewhere.
LikeLike
How wonderful is this poem. The last stanza is perfect, K.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Jeff. Oh, I’ll be sure to tell her when she’s done powdering her nose. 💜
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re most welcome, K. Always. Hehe. 💜
LikeLiked by 1 person
She sounds like a bonza alter ego!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, well, you’ll easily tell us apart as she always crosses her legs when she sits. 😂
LikeLiked by 1 person
LOL. I love it. You know how it’s considered “unladylike” for women to sit with their knees apart? Somebody told me that custom grew out of wanting women to take up less space. I mean, it was only a theory. I remember sitting in the back of the car with my two big brothers and their knees would be sprawled lazily out and I would be tucked in, prim as primroses. But I was the youngest and the smallest, as well as the only girl.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh, yes. As a middle daughter there was always the reminders about what was considered ladylike behavior. In reflection, maybe if we all learned to not sprawl ourselves, makes included, perhaps we’d be able to get along and share this planet and its resources. 😂 or maybe we all need to just see how far we can flex ourselves. 😂 too early to tell, I think.
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂
LikeLike