My love, best not invite
The dowager again
This Easter.
Realise how
Such an incessant
Conversationalist
Will have
The bone china
Reheat its fare,
The flue
Choke yellow,
And the pennyroyal
Cry foul.

And, come nightfall, she’ll
Sup and marinate
The marquee
Into a ballroom;
Fan raised
Warding off
Attackers…

Mark my words,
The agitation
Of the Un-merry Widow
Won’t stop there.