And So She Chased Hares

tarnMoors

And So She Chased Hares

Oh to be the heroine of your thorny life.
She of good temper and humour, usefully plain,
there born of a good disposition, a fine wife

she’d make. Have a respectable man, neither poor
nor uncommonly rich, and of excellent health,
and she’d bore him a family – that so she swore.

And when babes came with all their heads, legs and arms,
she played boy’s games, and played with all their boy’s toys.
A fine wife, a fine family, her life so charmed.

But there on the moors at the edge of a moonlit tarn,
that mad woman is chasing grey hares through the thorn.

 

 

 

 p.s. Not my secret. Written for dVerse Poets

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