Finding a Husband--17th Century
Mother taught me to beguile.
I sit, a flower pinned to my hair
I wear a dress the colour of the sea,
my shawl slips, reveals my skin.
-Young skin- the currency of a love affair.
Still, these men beside me are immune to me.
Me, the greatest beauty of the town.
I can't eat, that would be unladylike.
There are lots of things a lady shouldn't do..
at least until a ring is placed firmly on her finger..
then, she must do what is expected of her..
think of the land, mother will whisper.
I think I will choose the lute player
music always cheers
and look how delicately he
plays the tune..
love starts with the ear..
Brigid O'Connor
Posted over on her site Sort Of Writing
Listed as #50 over on Magpie Tales 67
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