Sunday 22 June 2014

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder

At last week’s Creative Writing Class we were challenged to first feel an object without seeing it with our eyes and to think about what it might be and what our touch was saying to us.

On its reveal, it was a sculptured clay head of a young man, fairly roughly strewn together, no smooth surfaces, with very prominent eyes, a slightly open mouth making him somewhat gawked and gormless. The face was not in any way that of a classic beauty and did not possess anything that could be described as fine or statuesque features.

Our tutor challenged us to write exactly 100 words. I have to say it took me some time to get started and as usual I have little or no idea where this came from.


Bulbous boils of pus scar his face

swollen, red and painful

ravaged by seeping spots and welts

discarded by family

shunned by society

the leper creeps along.

The shadow of the man he was

skirts the crowd

to get a better view

to hear the Word.


The Other glides with consummate ease

amongst the following masses

Serenity shines with his every step

a wave of peace calms the rabble

who , in awe, stretch out their hands

to be blessed.

His remain covered, hidden

but are unexpectedly touched.

In shock, the crowd pulls back

Love everlasting, life eternal,

Pain relieved

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