Queen Of The Feathers
Her innocence unquestioned, her purity renowned
She sashayed down the avenue, her mind not very sound
Nimble as an antelope, and wary as a fox
She infected all the solons with what once was called 'French pox'
Her innocence unquestioned, her virtue unassailed
She staggered down the boulevard and this is what she wailed:
'I have not knickers, bra, nor hat - I've nothing left to hide'
She stormed up to the Senate-house but would not go inside
Her innocence unquestioned, her countenance sublime
She waltzed along the promenade in triple-fourteen time
Cinematic were her dreams, her fantasies quite lush
She blazed like Valentino in her liner and her blush
Her innocence unquestioned, her attitude blasé
She pirouetted picturesquely, off toward Marseille
The Vichy and Resistance could only gape in awe
At her final coup de grace: drinking cognac through a straw
| Contributors: | N, F, Beefy, Kansas Sam. |
| Poem finished: | 27th August 2004 by F. |