Mind the turtle and fetch a dove
To loosen the button on your perfumed glove
The wigs they were powdered
The dresses immense
The scene it was daring
The talk was intense
To ride a swan in the river with you is quite a lark
Overlooking the moon
In the depths of the dark
Don’t stare
Don’t notice
Don’t even beware
Out of the mist and into the air
The end it was bloody
My cheek it was dear
I didn’t feel a prick
And shed only one tear
© Bolan-Beaty Boogie
October 18, 2106
(Marc has told me about several past lives that he has experienced throughout time. This poem is about his life as an aristocrat in 18th Century France and the intriques that you had to go through just to stay alive. Unfortunately, it doesn’t appear to have ended well for him hence the reference to the guillotine. He said that this life was a key factor in his love of clothing (he especially loves gloves) and his passion for expressing himself via fashion. Even though I too love this era, I wasn’t aware that they perfumed the gloves – which I confirmed they did – so it’s always great to learn something new. Thanks Marc!).