Les Grands Seigneurs
Les Grands Seigneurs
Men were my buttresses, my castellated towers, the bowers where I took my rest. The best and worst of times were men: the peacocks and the cockatoos, the nightingales, the strutting pink flamingos.
Men were my dolphins, my performing seals; my sailing-ships,
The ballast in my hold. They were the rocking-horses
Prancing down the promenade, the bandstand
Where the music played. My hurdy-gurdy monkey-men
I was the queen I sat enthroned before them,
Out of reach. We played at courtly love
The troubadour, the damsel and the peach
But after I was wedded, bedded, I became
(yes, overnight) a toy, a plaything, little woman, wife, a bit of fluff. My husband clicked his fingers, called my bluff.
DOROTHY MOLLOY
Men were my buttresses, my castellated towers, the bowers where I took my rest. The best and worst of times were men: the peacocks and the cockatoos, the nightingales, the strutting pink flamingos.
Men were my dolphins, my performing seals; my sailing-ships,
The ballast in my hold. They were the rocking-horses
Prancing down the promenade, the bandstand
Where the music played. My hurdy-gurdy monkey-men
I was the queen I sat enthroned before them,
Out of reach. We played at courtly love
The troubadour, the damsel and the peach
But after I was wedded, bedded, I became
(yes, overnight) a toy, a plaything, little woman, wife, a bit of fluff. My husband clicked his fingers, called my bluff.
DOROTHY MOLLOY