Sunday Writing Prompt #223 – Maggie Allcock.

This week we are asked to use this sonnet as an inspiration for our writing response.


Sonnet XVI by Pablo Neruda

I love the handful of the earth you are.
Because of its meadows, vast as a planet,
I have no other star. You are my replica
of the multiplying universe

Your wide eyes, are the only light I know
from extinguished constellations;
your skin throbs like the streak
of a meteor through rain.

Your hips were that much of the moon for me;
your deep mouth and its delights, that much sun;
your heart, fiery with its long red rays,

was that much ardent light, like honey in the shade.
So I pass across your burning form, kissing
you – compact and planetary, my dove, my globe.


Your hips were that much of the moon for me;

When you saw her your first thought was something like, “Well there goes a well-seasoned woman.”

She had hips that stood as the mark of a woman given much to childbirth and the associated rigour of such an activity. Her hips had been handy when the children were little carrying one on each hip as if she had inbuilt seating for such a purpose.

Her hips were a testament to a woman whose life had not been easy. Constant children arriving as if she had no control over it all given the fertility of both she and her husband. That their name was Allcock added to the mirth of a community forever looking for a reason to laugh at someone else’s expense.

But she was a good woman responsible for the well-mannered children around her, each one schooled in politeness and each one more than capable of being a valuable contributor to not just family but community.

For when disaster struck such as flood and fire the Allcocks were on the front line in offering assistance to all who needed it.

Maggie Allcock was a great cook. Her cakes and pastries were sought after and many wondered at where she had the time when you considered they eked out a bare subsistence from a bloke of land with what often appeared to have more rocks in it than workable soil.

She wasn’t an overly attractive woman and had a temper you didn’t want to antagonise her about. But as a mother she was first rate and her love of husband was never in doubt. They obviously found reason on many an occasion to procreate and enjoy the fruits of their labour.

Maggie Allcock’s hips were the mark of a remarkable woman and a woman we stood in awe of.




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4 Responses to Sunday Writing Prompt #223 – Maggie Allcock.

  1. Tournesol says:

    I love how you can write knowing what a woman is thinking and has experienced. You say it like you know the beauty and hardships of women who could not control her fertility lest she go to hell. This is a strong woman you have described and despite her duties as a good mother of many, she and her husband have not lost sight of their passion for each other. [What am I saying, the are still at it!] [wink]

  2. scribblersdip says:

    Had me chuckling third paragraph in with the “oh so casual name dropping” – you get us every time Michael, with your fertile imagination! LOL – and I really like the line you’ve chosen and how you’ve written about it, and from it – and as Cheryl-Lynn (Tournesol) mentioned, you’ve written well, from the consideration of hips – a woman’s hips …. and how they come to bear, in childbirth and rearing and well, most likely the act of procreation itself. Anyhow, you get the picture here 😄 .

    Interesting interpretation of the piece and a wonderful, fun read – thanks for playing the Sunday Writing prompt this week Michael 😀

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