Writing Prompt

STORY STARTER

Submitted by M N Smart

Write a poem or story from the perspective of a wedding ring.

Writings

Cherished Memories

Cold and coiled around with a tighten grip. Tighter than it used to be. Like an embrace in cherished memories. Once you glittered piercing from sun blush glare. Then you dulled, back and forth, across a numb finger with kindly care.

You long to watch your children grow old, You are the constant as the sunsets fold, You are more precious than I am gold.

I still feel the vibrations when you lay your hand in mine. That summer breeze whisper. That birdsong secret. I still taste the tang of 1000 meals together. Firenze fireworks within the spring. Dancing merrily to that Sam Cooke thing.

You bought a house so eagerly, You fell in love with the greenery, You fell content in beautiful scenery.

Ripples of autumn whipping through the trees. Long walks, hand-in-hand. Twos and threes. A unit. A family. A miracle of five. Warmed to my core by tiny sticky fingers, Lessened over time but the warmness still lingers.

Your little ones flew far all on their own, You stayed close in contact - not too far from phone. You smiled a calming smile, on your own, but not alone.

Winter calls hard, flakes disperse on uneven stone. My grip tighter that ever before. That vibrato laugh. That heart flutter sigh. People gathering in solemn collections. Tear beads hit handkerchiefs for joy-filled connections.

You look down on her one last time, You look on me with a look so sublime, You take me from her finger; it feels like a crime.

A pause in the moment. I’m nervous and unsure. You place me on your ring finger. My cherished memories now restored.

the box

It’s always the same. You sit patiently under the glass, with a little tag beside you, and lights shining on you, and you wait. Then one day, a nervous looking man or woman scans over all of us, focusing mostly on the little tag with the numbers on. The lady with gloves on takes you out, and you’re analysed, then you’re put back. If you’re lucky enough, there’s a nod, and a credit card is passed over. You’re shut up in a box and tied in a little bag with pink ribbon and a bow. Sometimes you’re hidden in the wardrobe, an underwear drawer, the glovebox of a car, a gym bag, a locker at work. Then, when the time is right, you sit neatly in a pocket, next to a shaking leg and a beating heart. When you finally see the world again you’re met with watery eyes and an open mouth. Then you’re put on her finger and you fit! Of course you fit, you always fit. Then, with these two people, you make your way mercilessly through the lovers guide. You milk over catalogues filled with dresses and visits to churches and function rooms. You see the bad too, sometimes you might get taken off for the night, after shouting and crying, but you always get put back on in the morning. Then, one day, another ring, just like you, gets placed beside you. That usually marks it. The beginning of forever. Then you’re lucky enough to watch life unfold, little ones get taller, pets come and go, houses get painted then painted again, and throughout all of this, you represent the one thing that holds everything together. You represent the love.

At the end, the saddest end, you finally get taken off by somebody in a dark room, and in a small plastic bag you get passed down to the next. But the love never goes, because you never really did represent the love, it was all around, and it was inside, and though you’re worn, not quite as shiny as you once were, you were a part of that love, you were always there, and that makes you the luckiest one.