pockets.

i

used

to reach in his

pockets

and steal whatever i

could grab.

sometimes i’d find

car keys, pennies or dimes,

but mostly lint.

i never really cared

what i found

i just remember

laughing when he caught me.

he isn’t around much

anymore.

but i still reach

to take whatever i can get

3.20.2007

Ruthanne Baxter

http://www.etsy.com/shop/bufanza

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the wraparound

he sits there.

just back and forth

on the swing.

soon enough

the dew on the porch

from the mornings

and the hot air in the afternoon

that lays thick across the steps

will get to him.

the mass of cricket sounds,

the forest full of trees;

his family inside,

will remind him he’s sitting alone.

they leave the light on

just incase he comes inside.

Ruthanne Baxter

1.20.2007

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Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!!!

The Invitation

Ruthanne Baxter
8.24.2008

Somewhere along the way
I traded in my crown of jewels
for Cinderella’s rags.
I look in the mirror to see
skin once graced with beauty
now smudged with ashes;
long hair curled and elegant
now spun tightly back so as not
to be in the way.
The hem of my skirt
painted black
drags the dust from my master’s feet.
It follows me through
every room.

Every day I kneel, not to pick beautiful roses,
but to begin the great deal of scrubbing
it will take to get clean,
I wonder, how did I get here?
but I blush with shame at the thought
of wanting something greater,
and pick up the wash cloth.

Much preparation has been done for this day.
The ladies of the house wait,
eagerly on the drive; they line up.
I take my place behind them.
The Prince approaches.

Today is the day
the Prince of all Princes comes
with an invitation to be His.
He’ll call on every maiden fair
and every maiden worthy.

As if from some sweet dream,
upon His arrival to bring an invitation,
He stoops down from His horse
walks towards the line of beautiful women.
I wonder which one He’ll choose.
But He looks displeased.

I see Him look at me
and my head drops
not wanting Him to notice me.
But to my surprise He calls me by name,
extends to me His hand, and says,
“You’re the one I’ve come for.”

Me? The servant,
dressed in rags?
It was then that He took His
hand and gently lifted my chin.
With tears streaming down my face,
He looked in my eyes,
“I choose you to be my treasured bride.”

Suddenly, I felt every reservation flee.
I placed my hand in His
knowing, somehow, I have just become…

Princess again.

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