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!).