We, the Coronado Scribes, consist of both professional and amateur writers. We have in common a desire to learn, by sharing our efforts and listening to other writers. We hold pressure-less sessions every Wednesday, at the Coronado Library conference room, starting at 1:30. Often we have guests who wish to just listen. They are welcome, and so are you.
Each week on eCoronado, we will feature a different piece of prose or poetry produced by one of our writers. Please feel free to comment or ask questions in the comment section below.
Annette Funicello
October 22, 1943 April 8, 2013
We were Mouseketeers together:
She wore mouse ears made especially for her
By a seamstress at the Disney studios.
I wore the dime-store variety
That required bobby pins.
Under those ears,
Her hair gleamed curly-perfect raven-black
Mine sprawled curly-messy sparrow-brown
We sang together:
When she sang, the whole world listened
I sang in my living room with my sisters and a few neighbors.
My mother could hear me of course,
From a kitchen that smelled of sugar cookies.
We sat on Frankie Avalon’s beach blanket together:
Frankie adored her
She was perky and curvaceous and knew just what to say
Her eyes dark, expressive
Her eyebrows wondrous arches
My eyes were not a real color
Greenish-brownish, with a touch of hazel
My eyebrows scarred from a long-ago collision
With a backyard swing
Would a boy like Frankie ever adore me?
At night with my pillow, I could only hope so.
Yesterday, I read her obituary.
I was sad.
Though I had grown older
Discarded her for Betty Friedan and Sandra Day O’Connor
She remains a part of me
As is the young girl
Wearing mouse ears and
Longing for love on a beach blanket.
by (c) Jean Seager
September 15, 2013
