Stepmother tries to remember their names
Had to come and see them with my own eyes
after the mirror guided me. What did you see in them?
I used my pedlar woman disguise.
The first one saw me and crossed the road.
Held his nose in the air, had shiny buttons on his waistcoat:
too grand to look at some old toad.
The second one eyed my basket, removed its cover,
poked through its contents yet ignored the lace I sold you.
He reminded me of a magpie but couldn't even find me a fiver.
The third, now there was a funny one.
Kept eyeing me up. I kept my legs crossed.
Bet it was him who got your corset lace undone.
To one I'd let slip I'd seen a King's feast.
He helped you cook, thought himself equal to the Castle's
He was horrid little green eyed beast.
The fifth, well no one could match his appetite:
no wonder the furniture was bolted down.
when I brought the apple I kept the basket lid on tight.
But the queerest one of the lot:
he hated me; gnashed his teeth with a rage
that could make the thinnest blood clot.
My favourite was the last: slow and dumb.
It must've been him that was with you
when I sold you the poisoned comb.
When they displayed you in that glass coffin
as if the death of beauty was some great tragedy,
my mirror worshipped me, whispered the names of sin.
Emma Lee would love to
spend more time being slothful but has to settle for pride in
her gorgeous baby daughter.
If you've any comments on this poem, Emma Lee would be pleased to hear from you. And she
has a website: http://homepage.ntlworld.com/teamlee/