Bottoms of Glasses

Father, I've hidden my heart almost everywhere and you still haven't found it.

Bottoms of glasses, under screw caps and vases. In pepper pots, though holes in socks, twixt blooming buds and fasteners. Kitchen’s sink; shades of pink, through willow-wood hearts and:

Behind Polaroid frames and flashbulb flays, measuring pixels and yards and:

In sewing thimbles, between knitting needles; gentle beetles, playing cards and:

Through laddered tights and telephone drawers, on written paper under boarded floors. On cotton shirts caked with dirt and in refuge sacks of reticence begirt. Cushion covers and shopping bags, through electrical wire and sodden rags. Under flower pots, inside sticky locks. In coffee mugs and china cups, Teabags and teaspoons and niches for tee lights. Bottle necks, glass jars, coin dish, cream jugs. Window sills, knife block, light bulbs, plugs. Plate stack, lotion pot, saucer, dust. Record slips, ornaments, lamp, clock. Table, chair: drink and sit around it.

I’ve hidden my heart almost everywhere and you still haven’t found it.

Author's Note

This may not read well if you don't have an English accent....sorry chaps

Reviews

[Julie Watkins]

As prose/poetry goes I really like this. It's tightly written and you've made good use of poetic devices. It has great pace and you have some nice slant rhymes. Not sure if you're looking for critique but I think your rhythm goes a little awry here and there, easily fixed though, and if it were mine I'd drop the few instances of 'and:'

Enjoyed this.

[Marie Anzalone]

I wonder why it it so difficult to be understood? This is extremely poignant for me, and is winsome in its execution. Nicely done!