lolita

365 Days of Creativity

day eighty seven

lolita

You cannot blame sweet Lolita

You cannot arrest gentle Lo.

Her soft hands and wide stare are no match for his clothes,

for she is a delicate doe.

Buttons and buckles and broad brimmed ideas,

his figure a solid chateau.

A house giving warmth and knowledge and shelter,

A place she will want so to go.

And not knowing why,

her desire shall grow.

Till her fears and aversions she'll throw-

in favour of safety and smart conversation

found in arms of an older beaux.

It is oft that a lass learns to be a lady,

faster than her body will grow.

Though merely thirteen, she may have a mind

with opinions and wits decades old.

Her age; an asylum,

Her body; betrays her,

a filly finished as a foal.

It is then poor Lolita, will reach out to his heat

so freeing herself of the cold.

No, you cannot blame sweet Lolita,

for seduction was never her goal.

It was instinct which drove ripe Lolita,

into the jaws of the troll.