Girls and Dolls

Welcome to The Spot Writers.

 

Along with several short story collections and books of poetry, Cathy has published two novels: WOLVES DON’T KNOCK, a psychological drama, and MISTER WOLFE, the darkly dark sequel/stand-alone novel. She has also written two volumes of grief poetry in memory of her son Matthew that she hopes might help other grieving parents: MY HEART IS BROKEN and BROKEN HEARTS CAN’T ALWAYS BE FIXED.

This month’s prompt is to begin with this sentence: "When he was a child he'd been told dolls were for girls."

Cathy continues with her Melvin saga (someday to be a complete novel!)...

 

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Girls and Dolls

by Cathy MacKenzie

 

When he was a child, he'd been told dolls were for girls. Melvin didn’t know what to make of that statement. Both his mother and his father had told him that, but he’d buried the statement away for many years—until his girls died, when childhood memories resurfaced...

When he was a child,

He’d been told dolls were for girls,

Girls! Diamonds and pearls,

Sugar, spice, everything mild.

 

But who believes parents, fools,

And other stodgy old folk?

Melvin thought it a joke,

Never enjoyed following rules.

 

He stole a doll from his sister,

Kept it close to his chest,

Always had it well-dressed,

Too often he kissed her.

 

He played with the doll

Hidden from everyone,

When day was done

In the dark he did sprawl.

 

When his kids were born

The girls received dolls

And William received balls,

Melvin burnt his old doll as if porn.

He’d never allow his son

William to play with dollies,

Those Millies, Pollys, and Mollys

Despite the fun they spun.

 

Alas, his girls sadly died,

Their dolls in the trash, tossed

By Marie, Such a monstrous loss!

But Melvin’s hands were not tied.

 

He managed to save one

That he hid in the closet, in a box,

What a sly fox!

And his lie continued to spun...

 

He reached for that darling doll

When missing his two girls,

Their blue eyes, blonde curls,

And he did painfully bawl.

 

He’d pretend his sweet girls

Sat calmly beside him

Whether in light bright or dim,

And he’d stroke their curls.

 

Marie’d never understand,

It was his only (cough!) white lie

From her, But why?

Would Marie have him banned?

 

But when Kailani appeared

He decided to end his obsession,

Quit the occasional doll-session

That people would term weird.

 

Kailani gave him such sweet joy,

But ’twas another secret in life

That he must hide from his wife,

But better than craving a girl’s toy.

 

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The Spot Writers—Our Members:

Val Muller: http://www.valmuller.com/blog/

Catherine A. MacKenzie: https://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter/

Phil Yeats: https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com

Chiara De Giorgi: https://chiaradegiorgi.blogspot.ca/