The Prostitute's Tale

Young and innocent, she manages her own survival via the trade of her mother.

‘Tis low eve:

Day’s beacon sheds

Broad, orange strands

Long, and resting on

The thin green line.

It’ll be soon I go.

Earn me bread--

Beneath the stars

That cannot condemn me

As they be privy to truths.

 

Aye, moon�"

Show yer face in discord.

Remember me?�"

B*****d daughter o’ Marny?

Then took ‘er own blood

Mixed wid her breastfeed

Across me new mouth?

Remember? You filt me eyes then!

Surely not too many to recall

A spotted face like mine!

 

‘Tis nigh:

Talc an’ lavender petal,

Hide all suspicions.

Aye, they pay for fresh

Or they don’t pay well.

Turn the linen an’

Perk the down--for

Fat butchers an’

Be-speckled penny-men

Need soft for their laurels.

 

Aye, lanterns of the marketplace:

A’glowin’ like the entrance to Hell.

Brides haste to their hearths,

Prepare, and wait.

Dare not tread when I creep

And lure their mate

With masquerade and

Shallow approval, of flattery.

Men, so weak and distrustful,

Wander night with sticky arms!

 

‘Tis the hour.

Loosen garters to dangle

Just below a man’s chin.

Compress spearmint leaves

‘Tween grinding ivory

An’ lyin’ tongue.

I be fit.  I be hungry.

I will eat tomorrow an’

A new hat an’ parasol

Will defend me from honest day.

 

Aye, me belly�"

Let no child spring from ye’ now.

Should sweet love not find

Me worthy of husband, hearth�"

Let not temptation of mother’s weakness

Paint silver to draw red

And poison the nourish of daughter�"

Who will come to fear

The face of the Moon

Or commune of stars.

 

I go now.

Author's Note

One of my personal favorites.

Reviews

[cartera]

Superb. And I do not dish that word out lightly. This is right up my alley, as it were.
I read it all with an Irish accent for some reason. Really really excellent.
Well done.
ATB
Alex.

[Chloe..Across the Unive..]

Very nice.. such images. lovely writing about the ladys of the night.

Chloe

[emmajoy]

I'm not surprised this is one of your personal favourites .. it's glorious and wonderful writing. Takes me into the past when the poets and scribes of old wrote their memoirs and used rich, royal language. What an incredible tale, too.

'Day’s beacon sheds ~ Broad, orange strands ~ Long, and resting on ~ The thin green line.' .. can see, can see!

Superb.

Will recomment reviews if I may.