Day 13–Stolen Red


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Stolen Red

It was dim in the cottage
and it smelled of meat.
In the corner lay grandma
with her slippered feet.
She was bundled in blankets,
cap over her face.
My stomach was turning,
fear I couldn’t place.

She said, “Dear, come closer
and take off your dress.
I’m cold and could use
your sweetest caress.”

Though her voice sounded queer
I had to comply.
Red slipped to the ground
and her smile was sly.
I crawled into her bed,
shivering and bare.
But it was no grandmamma
that I found there.

A ravenous beast
defiled my form.
His growl shook the bedposts
like trees in a storm.
He ate me all up
and left nothing behind.
My red cloak and my maidenhood
lie abandoned in kind.

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  1. Muahaha. Ah the “hidden” meaning behind fairytales… 😛 Very nice!

    • Yeah, I love what lies beneath the surface of fairy tales. And thanks!

    • PaydayPaul
    • October 16th, 2010

    Excellent! Check out Anne Sexton’s “Transformations” – this was every bit her equal.

    • We’ve actually been reading a fair amount of Anne Sexton in my Women in Fairy Tales course–the course which inspired these poems!

    • PaydayPaul
    • October 17th, 2010

    Well now, that makes perfect sense!

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