Penumbra around the Male Heart
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
The father picks it up, the doll, and grins.
He thinks of her, his daughter. She will love
It, he decides. His happy moment spins
Around her when she’ll see it. That’s above
The beauty of the item or its price
(A stupidly pretentious thing). The eyes
Reminded him of hers, so in a trice
He winked away the money for the prize,
That moment when she sees the dolly first.
One almost feels that men were made for dolls
Not dolls for men, for just that little burst
Of purity they feel when loving calls.
..Such trinkets were not made for girls. No. No.
….Such dolls are made to make a father glow.
