OCR Text |
Show Rhyme & Reason MAGIC IN MY SHOES September's yellow pencil days were new shoe school days, time to skip along the block to visit Mr. Amos' Shoe Repair The swinging door set off the bouncing belt The genie of the shop came scuttling through the smell of new blacked leather, leaned upon the counter top, exclaimed about my choice this year, then wiped his hands to set to work. I stood where magic miracles were tapped and sewn as easily as he could keep the tacks between his lips and lisp me tales of all the shoes arranged like visitors along the shelves. The master took my shoe, rubbed as Aladdin's lamp, and asked what size of taps I chose. He spread them out like jewels. I always wished to pick those great big ones that sound like drum beats pounding down the walk, but Mama's told me taps are just to make the heels last longer and the small ones do the job. So I said, "Small," and laid my coin, a sweaty quarter, on the counter top. The master winked, began to place the tap and told me stories of the shoes and boots that rim the room. The scent of polishes and dyes, the strange contraptions used to mend the shoes, his voice all blend to stitch a tale Scheherazade would be hard put to match. And when at last I skip for home, I go without the quarter in my hand, but with a pair of brand new shoes that snap and fly my magic carpet that will last a year. by Kolette Montague Poetry submitted by the Rhyme & Reason Chapter of the Utah State Poetry Society. For information call 299-2894. |