Mistaken

I’m celebrating love and lovers on Thursdays in February. So, let your heart go pitter-patter. Schoolgirl giggling is acceptable.

I thought I’d give you a little piece I wrote in high school about the one-sided love of a young girl—because, you know, sometimes things get a little mixed up when you’re dreaming about finding that someone special. Crushes often mean you act sappy and ridiculous. Unfortunately, that can mean you embarrass yourself acting sappy and ridiculous.

The poem received honorable mention when I submitted it my freshman year in college. It’s entitled,

Mistaken

“Oh, I know he loves me, mother;
For he cannot disguise.”
“What makes you think so, daughter dear?”
“I saw it in his eyes.”

A heart being used as a symbol of love. Photo ...
A heart being used as a symbol of love. Photo modified by author using Photoshop. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“What there was so perceptible?”
“Oh, mother! Can’t you see?
I know he’s looked at no one else
The way he looked at me.”

“And what makes you so certain, dear?”
“He also gave a wink.”
“But how does that make you so sure?”
“It’s more than what you think!”

“I can remember every look
And gesture made today.
When I walked in the noisy room,
I overheard him say:

‘Hey, George, now there is a treasure.’
I know he spoke of me.”
“Perhaps you are mistaken, dear.”
“No, Mother, that can’t be!”

Now maybe we, objectively,
Should look back on the scene
And take the young man’s perspective
To see what he did mean.

Truth being that the love-struck girl,
Not close enough to see,
That secret she saw in his eyes
Was but a fallacy.

Of the wink I am not doubtful.
I can give no defense;
For he had trouble earlier
With his old contact lens.

Bill Tuttle signature baseball glove, ca. 1964
Bill Tuttle signature baseball glove, ca. 1964 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

And lastly, what was that ‘treasure’
He spoke so fondly of?
‘Twas but a famous signature
On his friend’s baseball glove.

Though in her young and shining eyes,
True love made its decree;
It matters not her heart was sure,
Mistaken still was she.

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Author: Rilla Z

I'm a scribbler. I write about this world, the worlds inside my head, and the world to come.

5 thoughts on “Mistaken”

  1. I am sure the poem deserved much better than honorable mention. First place, at least! Love the way you write and the way you think. * and * are very blessed in their wise “choice” of you as their mother.

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