Friday, 9 November 2012

in the castle: forest

Mama ?
Yes Philotesia ?
Is it true that one should not
Sleep in the forest at midday
For fear that the hornèd one
Will steal into your dreams ?
The druids believe so but only
Under certain trees child
It is safe to sleep beneath the yew
But the cypress presents dangers
Thank you Mama
Why do you ask child ?
Gathercole mentioned it yesterday
I would prefer you not to converse
With the servants on idle topics child
But Mama G-dog is way cool
I forbid you to enter the livery yard
On your own Philotesia
It is not appropriate for you to speak
Thus of the male servants
But Mama i really dig G-dog
Enough child
Gathercole will depart tomorrow
I hate you Mama
One day you shall be the châtelaine
Philotesia and will need to command
The respect of the household
Next month you shall marry Polycrates
The son of Archon Menander
He is ugly Mama and so old
And his breath smells of yoghurt
Nonsense child he is an important
Landowner with rental in excess
Of a thousand obols per annum
Mama he is a dork
I shall run away with Gathercole
And live as a vagabond
Penniless but happy
Feasting on the forest's bounty
And sleeping in the bosom of nature
To your chamber child
No more zoëtrope
It has addled your wits
Friar Benson shall attend to
Pray over you for deliverance
From the evil spirits which infect you
Bring it on Mama

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