Poetry and Stories - THE GAMBLER: WITH A DEDICATION

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THE GAMBLER: WITH A DEDICATION



                             She had gambled
                             and lost.

                             Wake up Sleeping Beauty
                             the dream is over.
                             Your prince ran away.

                             He chased his horse
                             to Atlantic City;
                             tied it to a post
                             outside the Casino.

                             The horse waited
                             while the prince played blackjack
                             all through the night.

                             A man blew smoke
                             in the prince's face
                             which caused the prince to cough.

                             "Please stop smoking,"
                             said the prince politely.
                             "Drop dead,"
                             retorted the man.

                             It didn't matter
                             because the prince was winning.

                             The money he earned
                             through the efforts of his white horse
                             was being "invested"
                             at that table

                             in the smoke filled room.

                             The horse stood patiently
                             outside
                             while his master
                             succumbed once again
                             to the charms

                             of Lady Luck.

                             Her prince
                             left the casino
                             at daybreak
                             followed his horse
                             back to the track.

                             But Lady Luck (her rival)
                             disappeared
                             for the thousandth time

                             and the prince was left
                             with empty pockets.

                             The pot
                             at the end of the rainbow
                             was filled with sawdust.

                             Sleeping Beauty
                             opened her eyes
                             looked at the prince

                             and folded her hand.

                                                      Annette Wexler
                                                      1980

Written a very long time ago, and dedicated today to a loving relative and two dear friends of mine who have never, and will never, see this poem.

THE GAMBLER: WITH A DEDICATION