The Altar Boy By Jo King VonBargen

The Altar Boy  0 Comments
 
THE ALTAR BOY

Long years ago, two different
lands met, on the shaky,
quite shaky bridge
of the heart
and promptly fell off
to the depths

This land had knowledge
of the heart, its desires,
his land had not given him 
"the talk" just
yet. So it fell to
foreign aid to supply it.

I shall be the ambassador,
thought I, the queen of
hearts, the envoy of
all things Love.
Strangely appealing, that
role. I, normally being not
teacher, but taught,
and still pretty green, 
at that.

Texas boys, at birth
endowed with
deep knowledge of
forbidden fruit, would
have laughed at this
silliest of ventures.

Texas girls, knowing or
not, will try anything
at least once.

And so introduction began,
tentatively, slowly, start,
stop, start, stop, I, being
careful not to frighten,
or overwhelm, or put off.
But he was still about
two of those, and took a
couple of weeks to stop
shaking.

What a tender, sensitive,
little faun was he! But, day
by day, he became bolder,
even adventurous, still
ever polite. What a joy it
is for a mother to see
the infant say please, 
and take that first
step...and finally walk!

So the day came for
clothing to drop, no sweat.
I'd years hence shed any
ridiculous shame.
His eyes grew so large
I feared they would pop
so I pulled up the sheet
to save his sight.
He was not a compliant
patient. Soon, he couldn't
stop gazing 'pon it.
The Altar. The very altar
from which all boys
emerge, then spend the rest
of their lives trying to
re-enter.

I was proud, so proud it
seemed such a glorious sight,
until...

Oooooo, he said, It's so
big! 

Shhh, shhh, I whispered,
I can say that about you,
but you can't about that. It's...
simply...not done. A big insult,
you see. 

Crestfallen, he
begged my queenly pardon,
but couldn't make himself
back off. 

May I touch it? asked
he, politely. Of course, darlin'.
It won't break. 

Not like fine china
or a heart. At all.
 
--Jo King VonBargen 2017