The Daily Me

The Beauty Contest
Bestowed of honors, perfunctional kisses besmirch a cotton dry mouth agape with awe.

Blond, bedraggled tresses on tense, tilted head

Receive the crowning of tiara besprent and bejeweled with sparkling beryl and cloistered pearls.

Moist, nervous hands awkwardly retrieve, tied within a white bow,

A sprinkling of perky baby's breath and twelve ferned, tired roses.

Bright, luminous lights flash and snap succinctly into unbelieving tissue-dabbed eyes.

Now flaunting last year's gown, the bedizened production from a sale at Louis,

And just hours ago, head shampooed and pin curled,

A besot Cinderella, mop and broom in hand,

Fashioned in grubby Mother Hubbard, faded and safety-pinned,

Had scrubbed and rubbed areas of dirt and grime,

Cob-webs in corners, bath tub rings

And dirty, bedaubed litter boxes.

Drudgery befits beauty and the lunacy of superfluous show

As a beauteous butterfly flees its degenerate cacoon

And for just fleeting moments of beatification,

She escapes her functional, dedicated life.

By: Frances Jean Gildersleeve-Beaupre'

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