52 - A Tale of Babel (IV)

I guess I could describe what she wore.

A long black dress past the ankles,

A white shirt with collar and buttons,

A pair of white socks,

Docked in a pair of boaters (shoes).

She dressed like a thin Queen Victoria

Without the furls and fetters,

Or a pilgrim without her hat and frock.

 

… I think my head’s starting to hurt.

Excuse me, why did I start here?

We should skip ahead.

Also, a story like this

Isn’t for the world to hear.

 

I’ll come back to this,

But I require rest.

No, I won’t rest.

I’ll just say that it’s not

My place to describe what’s most private

Between a young man and maid

Who one week ago were wed and married.

My wife would have me hanged,

But for the sake of my biography

Let us turn back the clock

And talk of something else.

 

There are still notes about Babel

That I would like to make,

Especially of a hard meat to chew.

 

Who can be proud of that they were born with?

Is one with eyes proud that they can see?

Is one with ears proud that they can hear?

It may be that the humble are they born with gifts,

While the prideful are those self-made.

 

I will speak more on this, after I have my rest.