Any takers? A Lighthearted Sestina: Milk and Honey

Hi! And thanks for dropping in to read this.

A Sestina is a tightly woven form usually telling a story. The end words repeat in a specific pattern with every stanza and are included in a specific pattern in the tercet at the end.

My repeating words are woman, man, now, later, loves, happy.

All responses greatly appreciated!

Enjoy!

ps. I couldn't get the format to hold, so I hope it reads OK as is.

Milk and Honey


There once was a young woman,
Literature, yoga, music, her loves.
"Marry me, honey," said a man.
"Send me to college now,
"And I will make you happy,
"And send you to school later."

Many years, a mortgage, two car notes, and ONE degree later,
College was not an option for the poor woman.
Working two jobs, she was tired and not happy.
So with her books, her music, her mat, her loves,
She moved to a small place, now
Filled with her her passions, yet with her, no man.

"Live with me, honey" promised another man,
"On my 50 acres in my 100-year-old farmhouse. Later
"I will fix the roof, the plumbing, the electricity, but now
"You can go to college," he said to the woman.
So, she packed up her books, her music, her mat, her loves,
And went to college and was very happy.

And she studied, and worked and PAID the bills, happy
For 10 YEARS as she encouraged the man
To FIX the house, her loves
On hold, she worked, and later
Landscaped the yard,
hauling 3,000 rocks,
wrenching 2 acres of weeds from concrete-hard clay,
building tables for dining,
refinishing chairs for sitting,
planting natives for viewing
laying concrete for walking,
and for conditioning the compact soil?
Foraging the 50 acres for cow and horse fecal matter. The woman
Wanted a roof, and plumbing, and electricity now.

So after many years, she left the man. Now
In an even smaller place, happy,
With roof, plumbing, electricity, a landscape with natives, an
apartment with maintenance men, the woman
Determined that if she lived with no man
Her good times would never come later.
As she once again unpacked her books, her music, her mat, her loves.


She rediscovered Ibsen, Tennesse Williams, anthropology,
philosophy, history, her loves
Her piano, her operas, her jazz, her fingers relearning how to fly over
the ivories now.
Her singing voice from deep within her breath-held belly, belting out
through relaxed throat, clear and strong. Later
Would come the yoga, the limbering of her tension-laced limbs, the
stretching and breathing, the peaceful, the happy
Times she could never get from any man.
And she never felt more like a woman.

Yet another male knocked later, as she sipped her milk-and-honey-
laced tea, surrounded by her loves.
"Hiya, honey! I bring cookies," he said to the woman. "If you have MILK,
we can enjoy them now."
"This boob's already been milked," she said dryly, happy, as she quickly
closed her door on the very confused man.