LordPeter List Literary Contest

If you wonder, whence my sad tale?
Whence this tale of love and folly,
With the odors of strong coffee,
With the shiny patent leather,
On the feet of dancers gleaming,
And the lilting Danube streaming
Through a once resplendent lounge-room,
Past the false smiles of the waltzers,
All to lull rich, lonely widows?

I should tell you; I should answer
"Never ask the foreign dancer,
With his fair hair sleekly plastered,
With his coy smile slyly mastered,
Why his gaze so melancholy,
Though he whirls petunia dolly?
Does he long for wealth or lover?
Does he have old debts to cover?"
'Twould be foolish to believe him.

In the corner of the dim lounge,
Sits dark maiden, thinking, watching,
Musing on tired laces wilting
On old breasts 'neath painted faces.
"What a sad lot," thinks she nodding,
As she views paid dancers plodding
'Round the floor with portly burdens,
Rich and painted portly burdens.
"So grim the lot, so sad this scene."

Oxford training, brave new season,
Blending, roiling, make Vane reason,
"Fashion's captive or free female?
That's a ticklish choice for women.
Men like Peter can't be SUCH fools.
Surely they know what's 'neath bustle!
Surely Pete knows what I'm made of!
Is he real or merely piffling?
I'll play the game by my own rules."

-- "Placet"

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