This week’s dVerse Poetics is asking us to write about shoes.

I am a bit of a shoe-fetishist. Unfortunately, I don’t have those delicate, lady-like feet that suit any kind of shoe. Nor do I possess calves that will just disappear into this season’s knee high winter boots with ease. Much like my little-girl desire to be a prima ballerina (before I saw the light and realised that writing was the only way!), my dreams do not match the reality of muscly legs, and ankles that tend to puff up a little as soon as I get out of bed in the morning.

So, here’s my take on footwear. And dreams. Enjoy!

Please visit dVerse to read the other thoughts of my fellow poets!

– Buccaneer –

In my dreams
I stride across continents,
buckling swash
with a smile and a wink
for the ladies (and gents)
who I save from destruction,
and fates that paper
and pen cannot bear.
I take a moment
to polish my boots,
inhaling the leather
encasing my calves
like a second skin.
They are battle-scarred,
and the laces that
bind me from ankle to knee
are soiled with years
of pounding the lands.
They may be scuffed
and worn bare,
but when I ease them
over my stockinged feet,
one by one, slowly,
achingly, sensuously,
I adorn myself
with bravery, confidence,
and a suit of armour
that no metal may match.
They are my badge of honour.
They are me.