The Orthodontist

[Doreen Peri]

Freckles - a rhyming poem i wrote in 2000
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I've always had freckles. They sit on my face.
They rest on my arms and they dance every place
'round my legs and my elbows, my nose and my cheeks.
I've had them for days and I've had them for weeks
and I've had them since childhood when I was just three.
These freckles I have are a big part of me.
At 9, all the children who played on my street
would tease me and taunt me and sing and repeat:
"Hey freckle-face girly! What's that on your face?"
And then they would hasten to put on a chase!

They chased me down Maple and chased me up Main,
incessantly chanting this nasty refrain:
"Hey freckle-face girly! What's that on your face?"
They'd laugh and they'd sneer as they kept up the chase.
At 15, I cried and I stayed in my room.
At 20, my freckles were equal to doom!
But something called magic soon happened to me
when I blew out the candles at sweet 23.
I had a pool party with my best friend, Jane,
and this big handsome lifeguard had ME on the brain!

He told me my freckles were small beauty marks
and he started to count them and then flew the sparks!
He tickled me with his sweet smile and his eyes
and soon my own confidence started to rise.
One day he became CEO, millionaire...
that big handsome lifeguard who sat on a chair!
Now, I bet you are thinking I married this man.
But that isn't true and you'll soon understand.
I live with dear Willie, the boy from Rousseau
and he isn't a rich man and no CEO.

He doesn't have freckles and he never did
but he also was teased some when he was a kid.
We live in the country beside a big lake
and our life is quite simple, please make no mistake.
He plays with the children and writes a fine rhyme
and he dines with the family most all the time.
As for me, I'm a cover girl for Madmoiselle,
and a few other mags that the world likes to sell.
They say I am pretty, my freckles make dough,
but the only opinion that matters, you know
is when Willie comes home from his day through a mist
and he tells me my face is by beauty still kissed.

And I don't see his dim eyes sunk down in his face
and I don't see the place where his cane has been placed
and I don't see the blindness behind his blue eyes
but I know how he suffers and all it implies.
I only see Willie, the man by my side
and the lifeguard that taught me my freckles had lied.

[Lightning Rod]

thank you doreen for this very apt illumination of the subject

(btw, I've always loved your freckles, they don't lie)

afterthought: you are a master of rhyme, my dear. Once in a while you get carried away and force it, but more often you use it artfully and effortlessly (especially your internals) and you have given me new respect for this poetic device.

[Doreen Peri]

Thanks, Clay.

I usually don't write the end rhyme any more unless I'm playing around.

But this piece was a combination of whimsy and storytelling with a twist ending and a serious lesson about beauty.

I thought it fit with your topic, yeah.

[Arcadia]

ortodoncia sucks, I guess it´s the nearer thing to torture I ever felt!

& I like caras pecosas!. My mother had them, they gave her a childlike look even as an adult!

beautiful poems!!!

[Les S. Amore]

I had my teeth whitened. It was very embarrassing.
the spotlights would glare on them
all the groupies were blinded
it was a nightmare

I'm just gonna croon
skinny legs and all