Pears Soap
by Damaris West — The Friday Poem on 13/09/2024
Deceptively simple, delightfully evocative and, especially in the last stanza, amusingly insightful, because who hasn’t looked at a bar of scented soap and wondered about the taste? There’s rhyme and half-rhyme at work throughout – cell / roll / smell, red / rolled / gold, stick / stuck / marks. See how the language in the last line changes from delicately poetic to down-to-earth in order to underline the humour. Smart.
Pears Soap
It’s the shape of a red blood cell.
Rolled between palms,
like a stick to make fire,
it thins to a slippery
cuttlebone sliver of new moon
stuck to the soap dish.
Translucent, palest
amber, barley sugar gold,
fingers are shadows behind it.
The slight smell of ginger
and honey explains
the exploratory tooth marks.
Damaris West was born and brought up in England, where she worked variously as a librarian, tutor, and director of a tuition agency. She now lives near the sea in south-west Scotland. She has for company an Italian rescue mongrel called Galileo, who returned with her after the 13 years she spent in Italy. Her poetry has appeared widely in magazines and anthologies, such as Snakeskin, The Lake, Dreich and Blue Unicorn, and has been placed in several national or international competitions. Her debut pamphlet is due to appear next year with Yaffle Press. Her website is here.
when I think of Pears soap I think of Bubbles, the kitsch painting, and bay leaves, which characterise this delectable susbtance. Luxurious and ubiquitous. What could be better
This brought back some memories.When I was a child, Pears soap was a luxurious item. We never had Pears soap but loved the adverts on TV. We used coal tar soap! Very well poetically achieved and fun too.