THAT she may languish in her sumptuous flat,
Ten thousand acres sweat with wool and
wheat;
That she may lunch, maids tend her jewelled feet.
While she leans back and pets a costly cat.
She sips champagne from crystal, musing at
Her whole shape glassed in carven ivory,
Bored even with her lovers, even she.
Bored with her latest twenty-guinea hat
She weeps: Her wistful loveliness could know
Not anything in all experience, sad.
To her, unknown – who is more proud than
she? –
Her great-aunt drubs, rubs, thumps and scrubs like
mad,
And scolds: “I ain’t got time to cry!” – and so
Laughs pausing, and gulps down a mug of tea.
(E J Rupert Atkinson)
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Based on Topics: Sadness Poems, Cry Poems, Madness Poems, Boredom Poems, Cats Poems, Tea Poems, Experience PoemsBased on Keywords: thumps, scrubs, glassed, pets, scolds, gulps, great-aunt, drubs